Facing It
by SmellsLIkeFreesias
Summary: Ranger leaves Trenton and Steph is left with some baggage. Now two years later, he comes back. Now that she's all put back together, how's she going to stop him from ruining what she's worked so hard to build? Babe story eventually. Major angst coming up
1. Chapter 1

Slightly alternate background. Stephanie worked at the lingerie buyer for a while but after she got laid off, she went back to school for her masters, figuring she wouldn't mind teaching or something in the writing field for a career. Of course, while she's in school she gets her cousin to give her a job as a bounty hunter. Everything else (capturing Morelli as her first skip… etc) is all the same.

In this story Stephanie's world comes crashing around her right after the man she's been too chicken to admit she wanted for so long, leaves her mentally bruised, battered and left behind with a lot of baggage. It's a BABE story eventually.

--

* * *

**Prologue**

As I look back now, I should have realized the truth. Things that seem too good to be true usually are. But you never know until you're in it, do you? I'd always known that Ranger and I had a "Look-But-Don't-Covet" relationship, it was a given from the start. He was hot and willing as long as you didn't mind having your heart broken. So when he came to my apartment after a particularly nasty accident of mine involving a gun-shot to the shoulder and a week in a coma, I should have known better. I should not have listened to the "I can't lose you," or the "Let's make this work." I shouldn't have been swayed by the intensity of the kisses or by the way he told me, with his eyes full of determination, that he loved me.

It didn't take two days for it all to come crashing down. I heard them; Ranger and Lisa, one of the people who had arrived two days after my short-lived bliss had begun. They were in his office, just the two of them.

"It's a non-issue." He says. I strain to pick up the words he's saying and I catch quite a few. "I have no attachments … anyone or anything… Stephanie? She's not important… not that it's any of your business but it's my sex life and I'll fuck anyone I like … situation is clear … I'm ready … we can … leave 9AM sharp…"

There's a sharp pain in my chest.

"Good to hear…" she responds. "… over tonight … can't wait …" more mumbled words.

I take a few steps back from the door. I'm backing away as if it's radioactive. Suddenly I'm having trouble breathing. _Stephanie? She's not important._ That certainly wasn't what he said before. I'd made it clear to Ranger after the first time we'd slept together (a deal made up on his part… a payment to a situation with a skip) that I couldn't do casual sex. I mean, no woman in their right mind would say no to Ranger, but it would be one thing if he wasn't basically my best friend.

Or so I thought.

In my mind I replay the past events leading up to this: Ranger checking up on me in the hospital, us eating pizza and laughing a lot... the cuddling … the sweet gestures … the love making … the words he said that made me so jubilant.

Lies.

"Steph, are you alright?" Lester comes up behind me, startling me. I hear but don't really see Ranger's office door snap open. "You look pale, do you need something?"

I shake my head, trying not to look at Ranger but I fail. His eyes meet mine; he's as stoic as ever, blank face firmly in place. Expressionless yet analytical.

He knows I heard.

I stare at him, in straight-faced disbelief. My mind is blank and all I can do is stand there feeling like a total idiot. Feel a large amount of anger and hatred.

I tear my eyes away from him and turn. "Here," I say to Lester, slapping the files I have in my hand into his stomach. He catches them as I let go. "The information you need to get Klein. The deadline is midnight but there is new Intel in there. Good luck." There's no way I'm giving the asshole the satisfaction of seeing me look as broken as I feel, so with my head held high and a confident stride, I make my way to the elevator.

Ranger doesn't move.

When I get into the elevator and turn to push the button, he's still staring at me. I can't help but stare back. My stare is full of tragic disappointment, fury, and betrayal. His is intense and unyielding. I want there to be more behind it, I want him to be sorry. I want him to show me that it wasn't true, that he _does_ care. But he doesn't. My own emotions are marring my vision and I don't see anything else but his eyes as the elevator doors close.

I make my way to the garage and am numbly making my way to my car when it happens.

I snap.

_He told me he loved me._ I think, bitterly. He made me love him. And I hate him for it.

I want to cry, but I'm too proud. I want to make him feel as hurt and idiotic as I feel now. But I can't. He's batman and I'm pathetic. Always have been.

Always will be.

--

* * *

**Chapter One**

_About two years later_

"Okay, that's a wrap for today," The words are hardly out of my mouth before the rustle of papers, the high pitched sounds of zippers opening up backpack and soft _thuds_ of books closing fills the classroom. "Don't forget to bring up your papers."

Like clockwork, each student weaves his or her way down the stadium set-up classroom to drop their assignments off on my desk, most with a small smile or a quick "hey," as they pass me on their way out the door. "Loved your article this week, professor," says one of the students.

"Thank you," I smile back. Though I'd encouraged everyone to call me by my first name, it hasn't stuck with all of them.

It's been almost two years since I left the Trenton and all the people in it. If you want a quick recap here it is: I finished my master's degree, finally. I'd started working at my cousin Vinnie's Bail Bond company because it was the perfect thing to do while I was still in school, and now I'm a writer for a column in the Jersey Gazette, a small newspaper, and I teach at a local University in the town that I live in along the Pennsylvania border, about half an hour away from the 'Burg. The distance is enough to keep me sane, though sometimes I like to go back and visit Lula and Mary Lou… and Tasty Pastry, of course.

There isn't much I like to remember about my life two years ago. In fact, looking back now I realize that maybe I couldn't blame Ranger for not having anything to do with me. I was pathetic. How I believed everything… every lie he told me. I was so blind-sided from Joe's cheating ass that I didn't realize that the person I thought I could trust just wasn't.

It happened different than it did before. This time there was no deal. I'd almost died one night chasing a skip. The skip's gunshot missed me by millimeters. It was pure, dumb luck. Ranger saw it all happen. When the skip was led to jail by Tank and Lester, Ranger drove me home, completely silent. I'd been afraid to talk, he looked so pissed.

When we got to my place all I remember was that I was suddenly picked up, thrown against a wall and then Ranger's lips were hard on mine. There was something in my head telling me that this was a bad idea, that nothing good could come of this, but I'd ignored it. The way he touched me that night… every touch and kiss was like a desperate caress, a reaffirmation of the lucky reality of life. He touched me as though he loved me. He said it with every part of his body and then, once the passionate fire we'd created stopped roaring, he'd said it with his lips. I can still hear it if I close my eyes and focus. "I love you."

And I believed him. Stupid, right?

Ranger's love for me didn't last two days… that's how long it took until some new people showed up at RangeMan, including Lisa, the one who I saw him holding hands with a few days after I overheard a fun little conversation in his office. Then it was only a matter of days until he left again. I got one message. "I have to go, Babe. Stay safe." That was it. That was the good-bye.

It serves me right for being such an idiot.

Celia Nichols is the last one to hand in her paper. "Don't look too hard at the references," she says as she handed hers to me. "Mia was running amok last night." Celia is one of those students who waited until she started her family before going to school. You get those every once in a while.

I chuckle. "Don't blame the three year old." My messenger bag bulges even more as I slide the pile in and sling the thing over my shoulder. "It's your own fault for leaving it until the last minute."

Celia rolls her eyes, "Just wait until the boys are three. You'll see." We make our way outside and towards the University's day care center.

Most people wouldn't recognize me today. Alright, well I still look the same, basically, but I had to grow up really quickly these past 2 years. If you'd known me then you'd expect a scatterbrained train wreck without any true direction in life.

I'm still a bit scatterbrained, but I'm a lot more put together. I feel different; stronger, somewhat happier. _Definitely_ busier. I have a very close circle of friends that I don't have much time to spend time with but I love them anyway. I have jobs that I like, even if they keep me a little too busy. I'm not rich by any means, but I am financially stable. I'm secure. I'm safe.

I'm happy.

I don't let myself think of Ranger and that's difficult, considering he got me pregnant.

Okay, I know what you're thinking, but really it's not as weird as it sounds. I have twins. Yes. Twins. Twin boys whom I love. And the whole Ranger being an asshole thing? Well, I'm over it.

And him. I'm so over him. I've got more important things to do. Thanks to my anger and carelessness over my life two years ago, I went after a couple big skips, _really big_, and with Tank and Lester, I got a couple people wanted for murder and drug stuff. It was a big deal, and the guy ended up not doing it, but since we brought to light the people who did, well, I got a pretty hefty sum and made a couple of good friends along the way. It's nice not to piss off the wrong people all the time.

To be honest, when I started going after those guys, I was looking to get hurt… majorly hurt. Hurt enough to end the pregnancy. At the time no one else knew but me. But when the job (or suicide mission) went off without a hitch, I went back to my apartment and cried for a very long time. I'm not usually much of a crier; usually my less pleasant emotions get worked out through pints of Ben & Jerry's ice cream, but this time I was really lost. I was 27, pregnant, alone and scared. I was still in school, my career was crap, I lived in a hole, and I was a joke: how could I possibly be someone's mother?

It took two weeks of moping, pacing, worrying and crying before I got my act together. The fact that I hadn't died had to be a sign, right? That's when I decided to take control.

And since then I've never looked back. I have three jobs, not including bounty hunting, which I still do on occasion, when I have the time or when Lula is in over her head. I had to bite my pride and get a job at RangeMan, though, thankfully, it was way after Ranger left. But, whatever, I needed the money if I was going to support myself and a child, let alone two.

"Don't even." I say to Celia. The thought of my twins running around as three year olds makes me cringe. I picture Mary Lou's kids and it scares me, "I don't want to think about it. They're already turning one year old tomorrow."

Celia grins, "It goes fast, right?"

"Lightning speed." I agree. I briefly remember when they were first born.

Thanks to me working my ass off during my pregnancy, I had finished my masters, had all three of my current jobs and was financially stable enough to put a down payment on a very small house outside of Trenton, all by the time the twins were born. I've always been rather skinny, so no one noticed I was pregnant, and since it was almost winter when the boys were born, no one gave a second look at my oversized sweatshirts. Not even my parents… until I called them from the hospital.

The silent treatment with them had started right after Ranger left almost two years ago. I was a mess for a while there and one night my mother just pushed me over the edge. Everyone knew by that time but I'd gotten to be a pro at ignoring the looks and the gossip. There was a lot of talk around the Burg about me… about Ranger leaving me. I was a cautionary tale of what happens to girls when they don't marry right away and settle down. Of what happens when you actually dare to have a mind of your own. God, I can remember sitting, feeling so lost at that dinner table…

_My mother is mortified both at my haphazard appearance and my zombie behavior. "This just goes to show you that I've been right all these years! I don't know why you didn't just stay married to Dickie." She says as we're all seated around the dining table one night._

_My grandmother jumps to my defense. "Would you stay with a man who was getting frisky with Joyce Barnhardt on your dining room table? She did the right thing." I shoot Grandma Mazur a grateful glance._

_My sister takes my mother's side. "They might have been able to work it out." I almost want to jump in and say that it was that kind of mentality that got her stranded by her husband with two kids and no money._

_Almost._

_My father shovels food into his mouth and says nothing._

"_No man wants a woman who thinks she's too good for him. Stephanie, why can't you just be happy with the degree you already have? Isn't one enough? You think men want some smarty pants wife? All you need to do is learn to cook. That's all Joe wanted, too." My mother continues as she angrily forks her mashed potatoes. "You know, I think you still have a shot with him but enough of this bounty hunting crap. And leave school already, you don't have to be a genius to know how to make pot roast."_

_I push the food around on my plate and say nothing. To be honest I'm trying not to listen._

"_A master's degree!" My mother says as she shakes her head in disbelief. "You were raised as a nice young lady; I raised you to be a modest and kind woman. What do you do? You go thinking you're too good for the life I gave you. What do you need a master's degree for? What's it going to do for you? You going to be a doctor? No. Waste of money if you ask me."_

_Saint Valerie chimes in using her most soothing voice. "Steph, maybe mom is right. Joe really likes you and he has a house." In her defense, she does sound sincere so I can't fault her for trying to make me see what she really thinks will help me out. It's just sad that she believes this crap._

"_She and Joe weren't right for each other." Grandma Mazur says. "Stephanie is too cool for him; she wants more in life than to learn to make cake and pot roast. And he's not hot like Ranger."_

_At the mention of Ranger's name, I feel a stab through my heart._

_My mother rolls her eyes. "Ranger. Humph. Even Ranger didn't want her."_

_There is an almost inaudible gasp and suddenly everyone at the table is quiet: even they know she went too far._

_ I suddenly feel dizzy. "I'm telling you, no one wants a wife who thinks she's too good for them." My mother doesn't notice the sudden intensity at the table, "Stephanie needs to come up off her high horse—,"_

_But I'd had enough._

_Slowly I get up from the table and all eyes turn to me. I feel disgusted. With them. With her especially._

_I want to run away but somehow anger has penetrated through the wall blocking me from all emotions for the past few days. The criticism is nothing I can't handle but where I thought at one point it would make me want to slit my wrists, it doesn't. It's gotten to that point and I'm not depressed by it._

_I'm mad as hell._

"_You think I want what Joe Morelli has to offer?" I ask my mother slowly and dangerously. She looks up from her plate, eyeing me as though she doesn't understand what's going on. Her face shows no understanding as to why I'm suddenly so angry. "You're right, mom. I am too good for him." She looks at me as though she wants to argue but is afraid. "You want me to have your life? Sitting around spying on the neighbors? Taking a few shots of liquor every now and again when you think no one is looking? Seriously? Because all I see when I look at you lately is my worst nightmare. Here you are, a grown woman with a family and a pretty good life, but you can't see any of that because you're too busy worrying about what everyone else thinks to appreciate what's right in front of you." I lean down on the table and get close to her face. "I never want to be you." My deadly whisper frightens her. _

"_Tell me," I continue, "when was the last time you can honestly say you had a good time? When was the last time you accomplished anything other than making dinner? When was the last time you felt good about yourself? Or do you feel good about yourself when you push your daughter onto a guy who molested her when she was six and has since had more lovers than Hugh Hefner?"_

_My mother sits there staring at me with her mouth hanging open. My father stares at me, too, with a drumstick half way to his mouth. _

"_I'm sick of this crap," I say as stand up straight. "Sick of this town and of definitely sick and fucking tired your antics. If you can't support anything I do then I don't want you in my life anymore." I step away from the table, shaking with anger. I grab my purse that's by the front door and leave…_

Anyway, that's in the past. Like I said, I was so out of touch with them that they didn't even know about the pregnancy until I called them. Well, specifically, I called my dad. I asked him not to bring my mother. I hadn't meant to call him, it's just that the labor pains were so bad that I was sure I wasn't going to make it and after spending nine months getting acquainted with the idea of being a mom, I wanted to make sure the babies would be taken care of.

It took them a while to arrive since it wasn't the normal Trenton hospital we go to, but when they got there, they were shocked. They hadn't known I was pregnant. They knew nothing about my life. My mother came anyway, along with my grandmother. I was in labor a long time and saw her enter the room, open her mouth to say something but I cut her off and asked that she not be in the room. Whatever criticisms she had, I didn't want to hear them. She looked flabbergasted and kept saying, "But I'm her mother! I should be here! I'm her mother!" as my father escorted her from the room. To be honest, I thought she looked a little sad, but that may have been the pain playing tricks on my mind.

Instead my grandmother stayed with me. She rubbed my head, wiped the sweat off my face, flirted with the doctor and held my hand when I needed her to. About 7 hours into labor, I let the wall that I'd built up slip and started crying. I blubbered, worrying endlessly how I was to raise twins on my own, how they were ever to survive with a mother like me, how I was in way over my head.

Grandma Mazur was a saint. She said that I would do great. She told me that she's always admired me and that I could do anything I set my mind to. She said I was her hero and if she could do it all over again, she'd live her life like I do. Then she let me cry for as long as I needed, since my hormones were on over drive. She held me and rubbed my back soothingly until I calmed down on my own.

And everything turned out alright.

"You're coming to the party right?" I ask Celia.

She nods. "Although I have to leave early… Carlos is coming back tomorrow. My mother is forcing the fam—,"

My mind can barely register her words. "Wait, Ranger's coming back?"

She sighs. "Yes." I open my mouth to speak but she cuts me off, "Relax, no one knows, except me and Lester, of course." To my discomfort, Hector, one of Ranger's scariest looking 'Merry Men' discovered the truth early on in my pregnancy. It wasn't long before Lester and Tank knew also, and although I was hell bent on keeping everything to myself, I was glad to have someone to talk to about it. "I won't tell him, either. That's your bomb to throw."

My friendship with Celia came about in a strange way. At the beginning of the semester we were as any other student/teacher would be towards each other. However, being that our children were in the University's daycare center together, it didn't take long for her to find out exactly who I was. I'd traveled far enough away that I was sure no one outside the 'Burg would have recognized me as the 'Bombshell Bounty Hunter' and so when she came up to me in the day care saying "I knew I recognized you, you're _that _´Stephanie!" I was certain she was referring to my infamous bounty hunting mishaps.

That wasn't it at all.

Celia didn't recognize _me_ exactly, but I caught her one day staring questioningly at the twins while I was picking them up. It's not at all surprising that she would: they have a lot of their father in them. That's when she came up to me.

To say that I was shocked would be an understatement. But you have to understand, I'd gone a long way to distance myself from all that is Ranger. I'd worked my ass off, scraped enough together to buy a home, got myself two promising careers (with a little help from RangeMan on the side whenever I needed it, thanks to Tank), and made a decent life for me and the twins.

Anyway, back to Celia. When she told me that the boys looked so much like her brother, I was confused. Then she told me her brother was Ranger and I went a little limp. I told her to please leave me and my family alone, speed-dialed Lester, who is related. I went through a lot to distance myself from all that is Ranger and I didn't want to give him another chance to hurt me again, especially not when I had two babies to take care of. I couldn't afford to let him back under my skin.

Lester immediately contacted Celia and she has kept the secret from the rest of her family. "You're the Stephanie that Carlos talked about." She'd said when she introduced herself properly. "We had to force things out of him when he let your name slip once but I've always wanted to meet you."

Don't get the wrong idea. I know that Ranger has a right to know about his sons, and I fully planned on telling him. I've tried to contact him so many times over the past two years, it was insane. I didn't feel as though this was something that could be said over the phone, so I just asked him to please call me back, that I had something I wanted to talk to him about. I've never gotten a reply. I've checked to make sure that's still his number; I've left messages in several different places and sent countless email. No response.

Oh well, I gave it an honest shot. But really, it's better this way.

Anyway, now Celia and I are good friends and she's a great person to turn to for parenting advice; she already has a family of four. Crazy, right? _Four_ kids.

We get to the University's daycare and when I see them I smile wide. "Boys!" I say happily and they crawl over to me the minute they see me. I scoop them up in my arms and wave to one of the day care people. "Were you good today?" I ask them as I kiss their cheeks.

The boys gurgle in response while I put their little coats on them to shield them from the chilly early November air outside.

Alexander and Christopher are a blast. Seriously, I have the coolest kids in the world. I know I always thought motherhood would suck (Mary Lou's monsters gave me that impression) but the boys are relatively well behaved. They're funny and they laugh a lot. Their energy supply is endless, but it's alright because it keeps me on my toes and one of them is always doing something to amaze me. I love spending time with them and watching their blue eyes light up with excitement as they discover something new (which is everything, since they are babies and all).

As I'm bundling them up, Emily, a good friend comes up to us with her daughter Maggie in tow. "Hey!" She says. Emily is psychology professor at the University. We bonded instantly because we're among the youngest of the staff and we're both single moms. Maggie is about a month younger than the twins. "How are the birthday plans coming along?"

"Great. I've ordered a car themed birthday cake." I tell her. "You're both coming to the party, right?" I ask. It took me a while to learn to leave the kids in day care; even it's only for two or so hours at a time while I have my classes. Usually when I'm writing or I'm running searches for RangeMan, I have them with me. Grandma Mazur and Ella are the only babysitters I trust if I really need one, besides the RangeMan guys but they're very busy most of the time. But once I met Emily and Maggie, I was glad to have them in day care. They socialize more with other kids, not just each other, which according to their doctor and every parenting book I've read is a good thing.

Besides, technically speaking, they're not even a year old and already in college. Ha!

"Definitely." She says before turning to Celia, "You're coming right? Please don't let me be the only other mom there."

Celia chuckles. "Yes. I'll be there and my husband is driving so there better be alcohol. I'm going to need it if I'm going to see my little brother tomorrow and resist the urge to slap him."

Emily's eyes widen. "Your brother? You mean… Ranger?" I've gotten really close to Emily so, of course, she knows all about Ranger. "Steph, did you know he was coming?"

I sigh. "Nope. I don't even want to think about it."

"Wait a minute, Stephanie, are you going to tell him?"

I shrug. "If he calls me. If I see him." I don't really want to tell him anything or deal with him at all, but one look at my boys and I waver: they deserve a chance to have their father in their lives. Despite my feelings for him, it's what's best for them that matters.

Celia shakes her head angrily, "You know, I really should hit him. Just once. I'm his big sister, he's a little afraid of me."

I smile. "Thanks but that's okay. Anyway, enough Ranger talk. I'll see you guys at the party tomorrow."

"Booze, Stephanie." Celia reminds me as I turn to leave. "Don't forget the booze."

--

* * *

**Thoughts so far? I should warn you, it gets darker. They'll be some angst in this story also. But I never know how to begin so bear with me for a chapter or two.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

The morning of the birthday party I get up early again to write my column and grade some papers: I'm trying to get as much out of the way as possible before the afternoon. I'm making my dad pick up the cake and balloons and bring them over early so I can cross one thing off my list.

The cleaning, vacuuming, and some laundry get done before the boys wake up. It's amazing how the housework piles up. I hardly have any time but I make sure to keep the areas the boys are constantly in tidy; don't want them putting anything in their mouths that they shouldn't. After they wake up and I fix myself another unhealthily large cup of coffee, I play with them for a while, running behind the sofa and hiding while they take pleasure in finding me. Whoever spots me first, I make silly faces at and chase him a little which makes them both giggle like mad. It's hilarious.

I work a little harder to get them tired so that they will nap earlier than normal. It would be best if they were alert for their first party.

It's too chilly out to barbecue, which is really the only method of cooking I'm guaranteed to nail, but no worries, I have my handy pizza delivery menu and I can dial that number like it's nobody's business. I do cook a little nowadays but not much. Ella is an amazing chef and taught me the basics before the twins were born. She even gave me some really good cookbooks as a house warming present when we first moved here. Unfortunately, I now barely have time to eat on my current schedule so cooking is out of the question.

As I'm running around preparing for the party my phone rings and I groan at the screen: my mother. The last person I want to talk to. She and I haven't been on the best terms. We've hardly seen each other since the birth of the twins and that was my decision. I think it has finally gotten through to her that her expectations bore me. I don't want that kind of pressure around my kids.

Against my better judgment, I pick up the phone. "Hello."

"Stephanie, this is your mother."

_Duh._ "What's up, Mom?"

"I called to…" she paused. "Do you want to come over for dinner? I'm making a cake… for the twins."

That takes me by surprise. "Excuse me?"

"It's their first birthday today."

"I know that. I didn't expect _you_ to remember." For a long time I'd figured she didn't want anything to do with the boys. She hadn't approved of my break up with Joe, even though he cheated. She definitely hadn't approved of the rumors going around that Ranger and I had been seen kissing in front of Vinnie's office. I had been the one to keep her waves of disapproval away from the twins, but I'd figured she didn't want to know them.

I hear her sigh. "I'm their grandmother. Of course I remember."

"Thanks, but I already have a cake." Neither of us says anything for a bit and then I bite the bullet, "I'm having some people over for a party. I'm ordering pizza. Dad and Grandma Mazur are coming. Do you want to come, too?" She hasn't seen my house yet. She has hardly seen me. And I'll bet the only update she gets on the twins is what Grandma Mazur tells her.

But I'm not as angry as I once was. I should at least make an effort to bridge the gap. To be honest, I said some pretty mean things, too.

Besides, if she tries any of the normal Ellen-Plum-Why-Me disapproval crap, at least there will be a ton of people around and I can ignore her.

I hear what sounds very similar to a sniffle. "Yes. I'm coming over early to help you set up. I'll be at your apartment in a little while." She says, referring to the apartment I moved to right after I left the Burg almost 2 years ago… a place set up for me by the guys at RangeMan as a temporary solution to my desperate need to leave it all behind. How she even got that address, I'll never know.

"Wait, Mom, I don't live there anymore. I moved." She sounds genuinely shocked when I tell her where I moved to. I tell her that my dad knows how to get here and say goodbye.

Well, it'll be an interesting night to say the least.

An hour later, my mother arrives, with my grandmother and father with her. I'm standing at the porch having hot chocolate when they pull into the driveway, and I watch my mother look over the house with polite awe.

When I'd bought the house, it was structurally in good shape; the previous owners had taken great care of it and they'd made a lot of adjustments over the years. However, they must have been color blind because the colors were horrendous! I mean, on the outside of the house, they had earthy green siding, with bright neon yellow shutters and the wood for the porch was also bright yellow! Hello? Mental much? And that's just the outside; I won't even tell you what the hell was going on the inside. Four words: Brown and red wallpaper. Yuck!

I, with the help of Lula and Tank, had taken off the bright yellow shutters, I'd had the porch repainted white, as well as all the wood trims around the windows and it all made a huge difference. The inside was completely repainted and de-wallpapered. Mostly white to contrast the dark wood floors, but it looked textured and lived in and cozy… totally my style.

Hector had taken care of my security issues. There's a panic room downstairs in the basement, an alarm, sensors on all the doors and windows … seriously, the guy knows what he's doing.

My parents each give me hugs as they make their way inside the house. "This is a nice place, Steph," my mother says. My father grunts in acknowledgement as I lead them to the living room; he parks himself in front of the TV and helps himself to the remote as soon as he finds out the twins are asleep.

Grandma Mazur, of course has already seen it numerous times. She babysits here often. Even my dad comes to visit them once or twice a week after he's done driving his cab. He loves them. He's ecstatic about finally having boys in the family… Albert doesn't count.

I turn to my mother. "Do you want the tour?" She nods and I lead the way, my grandmother tagging along. I lead them into the small kitchen which was right next to the living room; my mother was pleasantly surprised. It was the one part of the house I hadn't touched since it was perfect. It has white cabinets, white counters and a small white wooden island that has this whole shabby chic thing going on. The white appliances are in decent shape and came with the house. At the other end of the kitchen there was a dining table with 8 chairs (usually 6, but I'd brought out some extras for the party), large windows letting in a ton of light and a back door that lead to the yard out back. It's not very big, but then, neither is the house itself. It's just the right size for me and the twins for now.

Back through the living room, on the other side of the foyer, we continue to the little laundry area and the empty room I haven't figured out what to do with yet. It's the only room in the place that isn't done. "Stephanie, why is this room empty?" my mother asks as she went to through the door.

I shrug. "It's not empty, there is a desk in here, and I just don't use it yet." It's almost empty and painted in a light blue… this was the brown and red wallpapered room before. Enough said.

My grandmother looks around. "I keep telling you to put a sex swing in here."

"Mother!" my mom crosses herself. "Don't listen to her. This would make a great formal dining room. You could have dinner parties."

"I'd never use a formal dining room. Besides, it's tiny; the desk barely fits in here." I tell her. "And I'd never use a formal anything. I was thinking maybe an office for now. I could grade papers and make my lesson plans in here."

"What lesson plans?"She asks.

Whoa. I forget how little she knows about my life now. "I teach English at the local University now."

Her eyes widen in shock. "You do? I thought you wrote for The Jersey Gazette? I read your column every week."

My eyebrows rise in shock. "_You_ read my column?"

She nods, seriously. "Every week. It's … its very good. Funny. Well written."

Wow. "Thank you." I say. "But yes, I put my English masters to work and started teaching a few literature classes at the local University. I really love it."

She nods in quiet acknowledgement. "Well, I suppose an office would be a good idea then." She is silent as I lead them back through the living room on the way upstairs. The living room is pretty large, considering the size of the house. It was furnished with a large sofa; two white upholstered stools in lieu of a coffee table, a comfy armchair where I liked to sit and read to the boys, short bookshelves along the side wall which were short enough to reach just under the large windows looking into the backyard. The walls in here had wide wood planks going horizontally across the room (the old owners had them painted brown … yuck!) which I'd painted white to contrast the dark wood flooring. It was very cozy without being cramped. I had books and magazines, pictures, candle sticks and blankets neatly scattered around making it looked lived in.

When we get upstairs I show them the bedroom which I've painted to be the nursery (its light blue with white molding, dark word furniture and pictures of bears holding letters of the alphabet going across the room). Right now it's holding their old bassinets, but they've outgrown those. When we reach my master bedroom where the boy's cribs are currently set up in the small alcove to the one side. I try to lead them to the corresponding bathroom, which is my favorite room in the house but they're distracted by the tiny sleeping twins.

"Which one's which?" Grandma Mazur whispers. Honestly, as much time as she's spent with them, she still can't tell them apart. Bless her.

My mother tucks in the baby on the left. "This one has to be Alexander," she whispers lovingly.

"How do you know?"

"I'm their grandmother." She answers simply.

"Well, I'm their great-grandmother," Grandma whispers back.

I smile. "Actually the one _right_ is Alex."

"This is Christopher then?" My mom strokes his little cheek.

Grandma rolls her eyes. "No, it's a fake. _Of course_ it's Tove."

"Tove?" My mom raises an eyebrow.

I laugh quietly, "I call him Tove. It's short for Christopher. I like it. That's what everyone calls him now."

My mom frowns. "Why not just call him Chris?"

"Too common."

We leave the twins to sleep and go set up the dining room with the cake and put balloons everywhere. Although all the people invited know where my house is, I put two balloons outside on the mailbox that stands right outside of the fence surrounding my house.

People start to arrive just after the boxes of pizza get here, each one with brightly wrapped presents in their hands. While the guests get settled, I tend to the twins, dressing them in jeans and a baby baseball tees Alex in blue and Tove in green. When I bring them downstairs, Tank immediately takes a hold of one while Hector bounces another. My mother eyes them warily.

We've had to bring out folding chairs to accommodate everyone around the dinner table once everyone was present. Tank, Bobby, Lester and Hector have come along with Lula, Ella, her husband, Emily with Maggie and Celia with her husband, in addition to my parents and grandmother. Once everyone has had dinner, we sing happy birthday to the boys, who are looking at the cake, their blue eyes wide. Everyone laughs and a ton of flashes go off as I hold them both while trying to get them to blow out the candle. When it's out everyone claps, including Alex and Tove.

The boys get their first taste of birthday cake and I think they like it. Tove makes yummy noises, though Alex is somewhat less enthusiastic about it.

There is a giant pile of presents in the living room. Once everyone has eaten their fill of cake, it's time to open the presents. Lester and Tank are on the floor holding, each holding onto a twin as people hand them presents.

So far we've opened the ones from my parents (matching toddler fishing poles that they aren't old enough to use yet), the one from my grandmother (twin onesies that say 'Hot Stuff' on the butt) and one from Emily (a set of baby books).

"Do ours next," Lula says as she hand the boys the gifts from her and Tank.

Alex takes his box and bangs on it like a drum when he sees the shiny gift wrap. Tove tries to eat the box which is almost as big as he is. Tank laughs, "No, Tove-Man, there's something better on the _inside_."

I take pictures as the presents are unwrapped. Inside there are baby rockers, big enough for the boys to sit on and push themselves on, Alex's is blue and Tove's is in green. Alex claps excitedly when Lester helps him open the box. Everyone laughs and claps along with him. I take pictures of them as Lester puts them both on it and pushes them around.

There are tons more gifts; baby golf clubs, baby Batman t-shirts, baby Batman jammies, a toy car set which has big enough pieces so they don't swallow them, and a couple more things. By the time they're done, Alex, Tove and Maggie, Emily's daughter, are rolling around laughing in all the wrapping paper, having a blast.

"You should have just given them wrapping paper," she says as I take another picture. I laugh, snapping more pictures of everyone around: my father, Ella's husband, Celia's husband and Tank discussing who will win next week's big boxing match, my mother, Celia and Ella gabbing, Grandma Mazur trying to pinch Hector's butt (he just gave her a death look… I may have to break that up now) and Bobby and Lester, crawling with the kids on the floor.

Emily, I notice, can't take her eyes off Lester. "They look dangerous. Are you sure it's safe…?"

I nod, "Don't worry, they're totally trust worthy."

"And hot," she says and immediately blushes. "I didn't mean to say that out loud."

Lula and I laugh. "Girl, don't even worry about it. It's the truth."

Lester comes over, scrunching up his nose. "Steph, I think you've got a dirty diaper in there somewhere."

I groan. "Alright, I'm going." I locate the dirty diaper baby and take him upstairs to change him. When I come back down, the RangeMan boys are in the foyer having a quiet conversation. They don't look too excited. "What's wrong?" I ask, looking at their faces.

"Boss just called. He's in Trenton." Tank tells me. "We've got to head out in a little while."

I nod, forcing myself not to react. "Well, you guys have fun with that."

Lester looks a little awkward. "Steph, he doesn't know about the twins yet. I don't want to have to lie to him… he _knows_ when people are lying to him. It's weird…"

I sigh. "Trust Ranger to put a damper on the boy's first birthday." I mumble. "I'll leave him another message or find a way to tell him if I see him at the office. But if I don't see him, I don't know why it'll be different. He won't call me back and I'm not going to drop a bomb like this over voicemail. Just don't say anything yet, please?"

All four RangeMan employees nod. "Okay, we'll avoid questions," Bobby says. "But he's going to find out sooner or later."

"Yes he will, but I'd rather tell him myself. What can I do if he won't return my calls?"

The guys all shake their heads, but we put the subject aside for the rest of the night. We have a good time until everyone starts to leave. Emily, I notice, is talking quietly with Lester and there is a smile on both their faces.

When everyone's gone, except my parents, I start cleaning up with the help of my mother while my father plays with the twins. My grandmother is watching TV.

"Stephanie," she says in a quiet voice while she's helping me put dishes in the dishwasher. "I wanted to… your father thinks I may have… possibly overstepped my boundaries when the twins were born… and before."

I don't look at her.

"I thought a lot about what you said… I never meant to make you believe that I care more about what people think than your well being. It was just a shock, that's all." She is looking at the floor.

"Mom, I never wanted to marry Morelli. _Or_ Ranger. I still don't, but that's my choice."

She nods. "I know. I never understood how you couldn't want a family and a husband. It's just what people _do._"

"I'm not like most people."

She steps closer and puts a hand on my face. "I know. You've never been normal. You're brave and funny and you have more imagination than all the housewives in the 'Burg put together." I'm speechless as she continues. "It made me nervous, how you were always doing things differently, but I only ever wanted you to be happy. I'm very… very proud of you, Stephanie."

Her eyes fill with tears. I snap out of my haze and put my arms around her. "Thanks mom." I whisper as she hugs me back.

We hold each other for a while until she pats my back and pulls away, holding on to my shoulder, "You're doing a really good job with the boys. They're amazing and so well behaved."

I smile. "Thanks. I have no idea how they're turning out that way. They didn't get it from me."

She shakes her head. "I think they did."

And so went the first pleasant conversation I've had with my mother in a long time.

--

--

--

I spend the rest of the weekend grading papers, playing with the twins and trying to stop being nervous about seeing Ranger. I normally go to the RangeMan office on Monday mornings and I bring the boys with me.

That won't be happening this time. First of all, the seventh floor, where they usually stay with me, will be occupied by him and I doubt that's the best way to bring up the subject. Besides, the further away he stays from them, the better.

I've work hard to put aside all my ill feelings towards him, for the twins' sakes. I can do this, for them.

So on Monday morning I get up early. After my rushed morning coffee I take a shower, straighten my hair and put it into a tall, elegant ponytail; I haven't had time do get a decent cut in a long time, so it's much longer than it usually is. Before you jump to conclusions, I'm not making an extra effort because Ranger will be there, I promise—I'm way past caring what he thinks of me. I usually dress a little nicer since I have class afterwards. I want my students to take me seriously. I take myself seriously these days. I put on eyeliner, mascara and tinted Chapstick, deciding on the natural look and go to my closet to pick out the required RangeMan black-on-black clothes. I wear black skinny jeans pairs with a fitted black button down shirt and mid-calf length black boots with a small heal, comfortable enough to walk around in, but stylish. What can I say? I love shoes! I barely have the time or the money, but I find a way to buy new ones every once in a while. They're my one treat.

I'm just putting some silver studs in my ears and fastening a small silver chain around my neck with the letters A & C on it when I hear a car pull into the driveway. I look at the window and see that it's my mom.

My mom was delighted when I asked if she wanted to come over to watch the boys, a task I'd usually entrust to only Grandma Mazur or Mary Lou. They're both here today, and though I'm sure the boys will be safe, I'm anxious at the separation. It'll be the first time we're apart for longer than three hours at a time.

I'll probably leave RangeMan early and come back to them before I have to teach.

Okay, so I'm a little over protective. Big deal. I have a right to be, I've seen a lot of bad stuff in my bounty hunting time.

"What are mothers for?" My mother says when I thank her. I leave her and Grandma Mazur with the sleeping boys, grab my gray and black plaid pea coat and take my navy blue Prius into RangeMan.

I'm super nervous as I walk in: I have to remind myself that I'm not going up to the 7th floor when I get in the elevator. On top of everything I'm worried about the boys. Are they awake yet? Do they want their bottles? Do they miss me? _I miss them_, I realize.

_Get a grip_, I tell myself. So I'll be separated from them for a much longer period of time today than I'm used to. Big deal? I go to the 5th floor and go to my little cubicle. Quickly, I take down the picture of me and the twins smiling up at the camera and stuff it into the top drawer at the desk. No need to launch into a scene in case he shows up down here.

I spend most of the morning doing searches and calling my house to check on the boys. At lunch I grab an apple, sandwich and bottle of water while eating at my desk. By 2 o'clock, I'm almost positive I'll go through the entire day without seeing Ranger. It's almost time for me to leave and I haven't seen him. I get up to use the bathroom and when I walk back into the room, applying chapstick as I go, its silent: the usually low-level chatter is gone.

It can only mean one thing. Even though I don't see him right away, I know Ranger is in the room.

I stuff my cherry chapstick back into the pocket in my jeans and make my way to my cubicle as quietly as I can. There's no reason for me to draw attention to myself now. But as I sit down and Ranger pops up behind me.

"Babe." He says.

One word. That's all it takes for my mind and my senses to go into overdrive. My skin prickles and, initially, I want to kick him or bite him or hurt him in some way. But I don't turn around right away, I focus on staying calm. _Be polite,_ I order myself,_ it's been two years. Learn to let things go, Steph._

I turn in my seat and force a polite smile on my face. "Ranger. Hi." The absurdity of the situation is painfully obvious to me. All the crap I went through because of him, all the lies I believed and yet here we are, almost two years exchanging pleasantries like it's only been a week or something since I saw him last. What a joke.

He looks the same as always; perfect. He's close enough for me to smell the Bulgari. Wow, that takes me back. "How are you?"

"Fine." I say shortly, but then internally scold myself. "You?"

"Better now." He says, although as I inspect closer, something is different. It's something in his eyes. It's like he's tired, but it goes deeper. It's indistinguishable to the average human but unfortunately I'm somewhat of an expert on Ranger. Or at least I thought I was. "Something on my face?"

I snap out of my trance, "No. Sorry."

"You look good. Been working out?"

I _have_ been working out sometimes at the gym here when I don't have to be at the university afterwards and I'm too wound up on coffee, as a matter of fact, but really keeping up with the twins is more than enough of a work out. "A bit," I say with a shrug.

"It shows."

"Hmm." I respond already turning myself back to my computer. Out of the corner of my eye I see his hand reaching towards me and I react. My hand snaps up to grab his wrist and I glare at him. "Let's keep my personal space personal, k?"

Ranger's eyebrows shoot up a fraction of an inch. "Nice reflexes." His eyes are somewhat less than amused, though. "My apologies," he says softly, and for once it sounds sincere. I don't think I've ever heard him any type of apology. "I was checking out your necklace."

I bring my hand up notice that my shirt has the first and second button undone, revealing an inch and a half of skin below the collar bone and the silver chain around my neck. My pendant with the boy's initials is showing. _Crap,_ I think. Dread fills my stomach and I instinctively move my eyes away from his and glance at the clock on the computer screen.

"Going somewhere?" he asks.

I nod and bend over to grab my leather messenger bag. The one good thing about not having the twins with me is the fact that I don't have to carry around a diaper bag. Seriously, I should be a hunch-back by now with the amount of things I carry around on a daily basis. "Work." I say.

"Vinnie's?"

"No." I really don't feel like getting into my life story with him now.

He accepts me to continue but I don't, "Then?"

I can't help a frown. "Why?"

The move is almost undetectable but he cocks his head to the side and gives a one-shouldered shrug. "I'm curious."

That's almost funny. Curious. As though I'm a passing thought of his, like when you remember your old car that you sold years ago and wonder if it's still running. It's a knife in my gut and I try not to wince. "I do a few things. Anyway, I really have to head out." I rush, "Welcome back, I suppose." There's no mistaking the lack of sincerity in my voice.

"Come on," he says before I have a chance to leave. "Really, I'm interested. I've been wondering what you've been up to. For a long time now."

"Right," I say sarcastically. My self control doesn't extend to stopping my eyes from rolling. "I work at a University."

There's no sign of surprise on his face except for the single slightly raised eyebrow. "Doing what?" He's probably surprised I can do anything other than screw up my life.

"Teaching."

The eyebrow goes a little further up. "Really? I never took you for the teacher type."

_Then I guess you never knew me that well_, I want to say and then realize that I said it aloud. I shrug.

He cracks a small grin. "I don't think I've ever seen you this icy before. It's sexy as hell. Have to admit, though, I missed the comic-scatterbrained Stephanie. She's pretty hot, too. Not to mention amusing."

I cut my eyes to him, bitterness creeping into my voice. "As I recall she was good for nothing except your _amusement_. But if you're looking for the old useless, doormat Stephanie, I'm afraid you're not going to find her. Now, enough games, please. I have to go."

Ranger's grin is gone in a flash. "She wasn't." His eyes search mine. "I've missed you, Babe."

I roll my eyes. "Sure. That's why my answering machine is overloaded with messages from you." I say. The intended sarcasm comes off a little more bitter that expected.

"I meant to call," he says with a soft look in his eyes.

I wave off his words, "Whatever. I'm over it." I want to maybe give him a playful jab in the ribs to lighten the intensity but I can't manage such a friendly gesture. "But actually, there is something I wanted to talk to you about, the sooner I get it out of the way, the better, actually."

"Should I be worried?"

"No."

"Are you in trouble?"

I shake my head. "No."

"Why don't you just tell me now?"

I look around at all the other workers in their cubbies and sigh. "Walk me to my car?" What's the point in avoiding the inevitable? Might as well get it over with.

He nods and leads the way to the elevator. "You're being very mysterious." He tells me when we're alone in the elevator.

I shrug, trying to work up the nerve to tell him. It takes me the entire elevator ride and the walk to my car to get it out. We're standing in the RangeMan parking garage and I have thrown my messenger bag into the passenger seat. "Okay, here goes." I tell him. "Please just hear me out _completely_ and try not to react."

His blank face comes out.

I groan, "Not the blank face, I can't talk to you when you have the blank face on. Especially not about this."

He cracks a grin. "Alright, sorry. Go ahead."

"I need you to keep a level head and not get angry." I say pointedly.

He shakes his head. "I try not to make promises I won't be able to keep. Talk."

I take a deep breath and close my eyes. "Do you remember the last we were… um… _together_?"

"I remember," he says, his voice a little husky. "Are you asking for a repeat?"

"God, no." I say with a scoff. I had enough of a backlash the last time, thank you very much.

He frowns. "You just did a number on my ego, Babe."

"Yeah, well, just feel lucky that all you got was a bruised ego." I say before I can stop myself, my hands balling themselves into fists. "I got out of it with a hell of a lot more." There's a tense silence. I feel the rancor creeping in and I take another calming breath as his face registers something resembling shame. "Just listen. Well, after that night… I got pregnant."

Blank face again.

There's a silence and the air seems to thin out.

My fingertips feel cold as I continue. "I tried calling you and letting you know, but you didn't answer or return my calls. Don't worry, though, I'm not looking for anything and you don't have to do anything. To be honest, I don't even really _want _to tell you, but you're bound to find out eventually and, I suppose on some level, you have a right to now. We're fine and you're completely in the clear. _I_ chose to stay pregnant and _I_ alone am responsible." I choose my words carefully.

Ranger doesn't say anything for several long moments. It seems like an eternity. His face is completely expressionless and as fast as lightning, his eyes turn cold. "Is this some kind of joke?"

His anger doesn't exactly surprise me. "Gee, you guessed it; I've been planning this gag for two years. Ha-fucking-ha." My sarcasm is unstoppable, "Why would I joke about that?"

"Are you sure it's mine? It's been a long time since we had sex, Stephanie."

I almost want to slap him. "_Excuse_ me? I'm not the town whore, Ranger. Just because you have a lover for each day of the week doesn't mean I'm the same way."

"Is that what this is about? You're still jealous?" He says coldly.

My nostrils flare and my hands ball into fists. "Right, I'm _so_ jealous. How did you guess? Please, please, please Ranger, let me be your worthless, pathetic screw on the side again," I beg mockingly. "What the hell do you take me for?"

"Steph—,"

"Whatever, Ranger. I couldn't care less about what you think of me. I've done my part. You know now. And just to be clear, that's as _far_ as your involvement with this is going to go." I turn to get into my car but he stops me, grabbing my arm and spinning me around to face him.

"I find it hard to believe that's what you want. If you did, then why even tell me?" His eyes are as hard as his voice.

I glare right back at him. "I told you: because it was the right thing to do. Because you would have found out eventually and I'd rather it come from me. I don't care what you think, but you have a right to know. So now you do. But it was _my_ decision to keep them, it was _my_ decision to raise them and they are _my_ responsibility and mine alone. How _dare_ you accuse me of first being a slut and now being a money hungry gold-digger! Do you even _know_ me?"

But Ranger has already stopped listening. "_Them?"_ He asks incredulously. "Plural?"

Shit. I hadn't meant to blurt that out. "Twins." I say, finally, crossing my arms across my chest and staring boldly at him.

There is another long silence between us.

"I have to go," I tell him, pulling my arm out of his grasp. "Look, don't go crazy thinking about this," His mind is clearly working on overdrive and not in a good way. From his face and actions I can tell that this is not welcome news. That's fine by me. "Just forget I told you. I'm not going to seek child support or anything so you can relax. I'll even sign something to that effect if it'll make you more comfortable. They're fine and they don't need anything. You can forget about us."

When he looks back at me his eyes are softer. "We'll need to go over this in detail. Tonight. I'll come over."

"No." I say simply.

"Stephanie." He says, giving me a look.

"I'm not trying to be difficult, but no. No way. I have to think of what's best for them and I'm not comfortable having you around them. I told you that you're in the clear. If you still want to talk then tomorrow at lunch will work."

Ranger doesn't speak for a moment. He looks like he wants to argue but he drops it. "Fine. Tomorrow. Noon." He turns and walks away from me.

It takes every ounce of self control I have not to run him over with my car.

--

* * *

**What do you think? Quick question, does the boy's names bother anyone? I love the name Tove but once I read a fanfic where the kid had a ridiculous name and it kept distracting me on every page. Let me know if it's too distracting. I wanted names that would seem appropriate for Ranger's kids. I can't imagine Ranger, a big, bad-ass, hot Cuban-American soldier with a kid named something like "Wind". (No offense to anyone. "Wind" was something I was considering naming my future first son but my boyfriend has ruled that out.) Anyhow, "Christopher" I feel is a good mix between what Stephanie might pick and what Ranger might. Whatevs, folks. Just let me know if it's too out there for you.**


	3. Chapter 3

**Thank you for the amazing reviews and the great feedback! I'm ecstatic you guys are enjoying it. This story came to me back in September and I only worked on it when it was that time of the month because that's when my hormones would go on overdrive and my biological time was clicking. I've gone through quite a few versions of it, but I'm glad I settled on this one. Thanks again!**

**

* * *

  
**

**Chapter 3**

By the time I get home later that day, I race to my boys. They smile happily when they see me and reach out to me. I pick them up happily and cover them with kisses. I thank my mom, who nags me about the state of my refrigerator before she leaves, promising to be back tomorrow. Soon, I'd have to think of a better arrangement. Maybe Ranger won't mind me bringing them to RangeMan with me, but I'm not sure I want them around him. I'd quit but the money is good and I've come to rely on it. Besides, he'd probably be really angry if I did bring them. After all, it was his apartment I was using as my own personal day care.

I spend an hour playing with the boys. Their favorite game is when I pretend to be asleep on the floor and they climb up on my trying to see if they can wake me up. They move quietly around me, inspecting my face and my arms and climbing up on me while I make random snorting noises and then wake up suddenly, tickling them with no mercy before falling back "asleep" again. Afterwards, I sit them in their high chairs in the kitchen and talk to them while I prepare dinner for myself and give them their bottles.

Before bedtime I snuggle up on the armchair with them and a book and I read to them for a while.

This is what my life is now. It's not mine. Not anymore. It's theirs. Maybe Emily is right when she tells me I need more "me" time. I can't honestly explain why I've shut myself in, but I suppose it has something to do with me not trusting anyone not to hurt them. Every time I have "me" time, my mind drifts to Ranger, then to the wretched way he discarded of me the last time, then of how much it killed me… then of how I never want the twins to feel that. Sure, I miss my old life with no responsibilities; I never have an unplanned minute anymore, it seems. Anytime not spent thinking about what I have to do is time spent trying not to think about the lingering pain in the background.

Pathetic, isn't it? It's been two years, for crying out loud. But it's been a very busy two years. I mean, finding time to have three jobs and take care of babies is no easy feat, especially when you factor in buying a house and trying to pay bills… If I let myself get caught off guard, I'll lose my momentum. It has to be said: twins are hard but twins and three jobs is harder. However, a lack of free time is best for a troubled mind, I think.

_God, I'm exhausted._ The thought escapes me and I'm immediately annoyed at myself. It's okay. _Because as long as I'm around no one is ever going to hurt them._ I think as I inhale the sweet smell of their heads and listen to them dozing off in my arms.

It turns out to be a very satisfying night.

All too soon, though, it's the next day and I'm nervous again. I'm up extra early today because Alex decides to get up at 5. "Hey, little man," I pick him up and kiss his cheek. "What are you doing up?" I hand him his tiny little bear toy and he holds onto it. "You've got a strong grip." I tell him. "Grandma Ellen is going to watch you again today. She and Grandma Mazur are coming over. Whatever you do, don't go in Grandma Mazur's purse, you never know what could be in there." My mother promised to triple check her purse for guns and/or sex toys but I'd be happier once I saw for myself. I'm used to Grandma Mazur's antics but I read that babies start talking around this age. The last thing I want is for their first word to be "gun" or "dildo".

I get him a bottle and put him back in his crib with a baby book and sit at my laptop writing my column for a while before deciding to get ready. I decide not to go into RangeMan at my normal time, since it would be too weird with Ranger there and call Tank to let him know I'll be in late and have a meeting with Ranger. My mother and grandmother arrive early enough, though, and with a familiar Tasty Pastry box.

"No work today?" Grandma asks.

"I have a meeting with Ranger at lunch and then classes afterwards." I tell her.

My mother's lips tighten, like she's thinking about saying something but is holding back. True to form, though, she says it out loud. "Are you and him going to talk about marriage?"

I sigh. "_Mom!"_

"I'm just saying, it's not unheard of to marry the father of your children."

Grandma looks at her like she's crazy, "He's been gone for two years and she hasn't heard from him. Would _you_ marry him?"

"I'm just thinking of Stephanie… she's had to do this on her own. Financially, it would be a decent option."

I lead them to the kitchen where there's a fresh pot of coffee and they help themselves as I grab a glazed doughnut from the box. "Mom, I'm not now nor will I ever marry someone for money. Look, you should get used to the fact that at this stage in the game, I'm pretty sure I'm never going to marry. The twins are my family. I gave you grandkids, okay? Lay off."

She sighs. "Stephanie, I know. I just… I've never seen you like this."

"Like what?"

She looks me up and down, "So… so…"

"She means she's never seen you wound tighter than the girdle of a baptist minister's wife at an all-you-can-eat pancake breakfast before." Grandma Mazur interjects,

"Grandma—"

"Mother—"

"What? You are." She says innocently before biting into a jelly doughnut.

I roll my eyes, "I have bills to pay and twin babies. It hasn't been a vacation so far, you know."

"Ranger could lighten the load."

"Sure he could," I say, "_If_ I were out of my mind and allowed him access to the twins. Which is not happening."

"So you'll keep working there and the two of you will, what? Pretend they don't exist during office hours?" She says with one eyebrow up. "How's that ever going to work?"

I sigh and sit at the kitchen table. "Honestly, I don't know. I think I may have to get another job."

"How? Stephanie, you work too much as it is and no one is going to give you free reign to pull in whatever hours you like."

"True, but I was thinking about another writing job, possibly."

Grandma Mazur's eyes widen, "You know how Betty Lapowski made a bundle of money? _Phone sex operator!_" My mother puts down her coffee mug and rubs her temples. "She charged like ten dollars a minute or something and made thousands!"

"Hold on." I say, "Betty Lapowski? The girl with the lisp? She chargers for phone sex?"

"Yep. I guess some guys are into that. She's missing her two front teeth so I guess it would be real easy for a guy to picture himself—"

"Stop!" I shut my eyes and shudder. "No. No phone sex for me. Let's change the subject shall we?"

It takes my mother a while to recover from that last topic and she eventually goes upstairs and tends to the boys, leaving me to finish up some last minute bills and school forms to go through before I have to start getting ready. At 10:30 I shower, towel dry my hair and run some of expensive magical hair stuff through it, which makes the curls act perfectly. I throw on another pair of black skinny jeans, a black turtle neck and black ankle boots today.

By the time I'm made up, on my third cup of coffee and reading to Alex in the living room, my mother warns me about the time. She's just bathed Tove and has dressed him identical to his brother and combed his hair back.

My mother shakes her head at my outfit. "All this black. Can't Ranger make an exception and let you wear colors."

"It's the uniform, Mom." I tell her as I hand Alex to Grandma Mazur

"I think it looks sexy," my grandmother says. "I wouldn't mind wearing jeans like those."

I roll my eyes, kiss her cheek and am out the door with a final goodbye to Alex who is reaching out to me with pleading eyes that say, _How could you leave me? Come back! This lady keeps leaving giant lipstick marks on my face, how could you leave me with them? Don't you love me at all? _It tugs at my heart and I go back to give him another giant hug, on both to him and to Tove, and I leave feeling guilty. Luckily, today I'm only going in for a meeting with Ranger, then it's one class, a meeting with my editor and then I'm good to go back home.

When I arrive at RangeMan, one of the guys tells me Ranger is waiting for me before I even have a chance to put my stuff down at my cubicle.

I go, nervously, to Ranger's office. I knock on the door. "Come in," I hear and I open the door. Ranger is seated behind his desk, looking over some papers. When I come in he puts them aside. "Sit," he gestures towards the chairs in front of his desk.

I sit and lean back in the chair silently.

"I found this in my apartment." He reaches into a drawer and pulls out a pacifier. "It was in a drawer in the living room. Do you want to tell me why?"

"Probably because someone put it there."

He glares at me. "Stephanie."

My eyes close automatically. "Yes… well, I've brought them here."

"Really. Why?"

I shrug, "When I couldn't find a babysitter…"

"How often?"

It would serve me no purpose to lie, so I swallow then answer him straight. "Whenever I run searches. Yesterday was the first time I didn't bring them with me."

Ranger's face is expressionless. It's impossible to tell what he's thinking or what his mood really is. "So you've been using this place as your personal day care? Did it occur to you that this is a place of business?"

Anger begins to boil in me like lava. "Yes. But it's not like I was having other people watch them, I did that myself _and_ did my work."

Ranger isn't smiling, but again, he doesn't look mad. His eyes, behind the mask of perfection, look tired. Barely noticeable, again, to anyone but me. "I looked around in your cubby. I found this." He pulls out the picture frame I hid in my desk drawer with a picture of me holding the boys.

"You went through my things?!"

"Yes." He says with no remorse. "This is them, right?"

I roll my eyes. "No, it's someone else's twins." I say sarcastically. "Yes, it's them."

He nods once and looks back at the picture. "They have your eyes," he says finally. The room is silent as he stares at the picture. "When are you planning on introducing me?"

"I was thinking never."

Ranger cuts his eyes to me. "That's not going to work."

"Quite the opposite, it's going to work perfectly."

"I can see that you're still angry with me and I get it, but you're going to have to get over it. I'm going to know my sons."

There goes my anger again. "I _have_ gotten over it, and don't you ever forget that. My anger towards you made me bitter and callous and, frankly, it turned me into someone I didn't want to be—someone I didn't want my children to see. So _trust _me when I tell you that I have, _with great difficulty,_ put it aside." I say dangerously. I take a second to calm myself before adding on, "Not that I wasn't petty when I shot out your tires, I'll admit."

He looks at me. "I'm pretty sure you broke my windshield, too."

I shrug, "I had one more bullet left. Seemed a shame to waste it." I take a deep, steadying breath, "Ranger, I've spent a long time trying to stop being angry at you for… everything, trying to stop being angry at myself for every little screw up, for letting you…" I stop, clench my teeth and swallow, catching myself. Fury is hard to hold back, and when unleashed, it's uncontrollable. I'm above that now… but in truth, I want him to understand the extent of it, the seriousness of it all. I want him to know that the damage is irreversible. "I don't want you to drag me back to that place. But the truth is…" I pause and once I get my breathing under control and look at him and hold him captive with my eyes. My skin prickles and an eerie calm takes over me. "The truth is that I will _never_ forgive you for what you did to me."

He seems jolted by my candor. I give the words a second to sink in and then I continued.

"You lied to me, you cheapened me and made me think—," I pause and shake my head. "Forget it; I'm not going down that road again. I don't like what it did to me the last time."

"Stephanie." Ranger says, not taking his eyes away from mine. "You shouldn't—,"

"There isn't anything you can say that will change what happened. And to be honest with you, I wouldn't change it if I could." I gesture with my chin at the picture in his hands. "Despite all the utter bullshit from you I have two incredible little boys at home," a small smile escapes me at the mere mention of them, "and _because_ of them I can put aside all of that. But… I. Am. _Not_ going to let you do the same thing to them. There's just no way. It's too great a risk for me to take with them." I swallow, staring at him dead in the face. "You said it yourself once, you're not family material. Keep it that way."

Ranger steeples his finger in front of him and presses the points to his lips as he thinks. There is a long silence and behind those haunted eyes of his I can tell his mind is blazing through rapidly moving thoughts. Finally, after what seems like forever, he speaks. "I get what you're saying and I understand where you're coming from, but, Babe, it doesn't change the fact that I'm their father. Despite what happens between you and me, which by the way, I know it was bad but… there's so much you don't know. Don't let one bad moment mark you." I want to hurt him for even attempting to give advice… as though he would know anything about what really is best for me. As if he cared. The bastard. "But, Stephanie," he continues, "I _have_ to meet my sons. I have a responsibility to take care of them."

I shake my head. "I just absolved you of that responsibility. That's a big load off your shoulders. I told you, I'll sign whatever you want legally absolving you from any responsibility, financial or otherwise. Really, though, I didn't even put you down as the father. So legally, you have no obligations. Or rights, actually."

He stares at me silently; the hard stare he uses to scare people into giving in. It's very affective.

Usually. There's a tense silence and I understand that he's not going to let it go easily. "Do you have a relationship with Julie?"

My question is out of the blue and he doesn't answer right away. He stares at me for a while and I find myself making a futile attempt to figure out what he's thinking. "Sometimes. If she wants one I'll allow it."

I raise an eyebrow. "You'll _allow_ her to have one?" I laugh humorlessly and shake my head. "You're not getting it. You see, she may have other parents, but she knows who her real father is and no matter how awesome they may be, she's always going to wonder about you—about why you weren't around, about what it would've been like if you _were._ And, while I'm not saying that's okay, because it's not, it's _slightly_ more acceptable for a girl." I sit back in the chair, staring at my finger and struggling to find the right way to explain. "See, girls need their mothers a little more than fathers, I think, because they look to their moms to show them how to _be_ a girl, a woman… I'm not saying it's like that for everyone, but as a general rule, it seems to me that that's how it works.

"But I think it's different for guys. They will _always_ look to their fathers as an example of how they should be. It's the one thing I know for sure, and I can see it in every guy I know. Their dads were a big part of who they are today, whether they were always there or not. They either try to become their fathers or spend a lifetime doing the opposite. Think about it: Joe, for instance, turned out exactly like his good-for-nothing father even though he spent his whole life trying not to be. Hell, even skips; you can't chase the people we've chased and not wonder how they turned out that way." I look back at him, _imploring_ him to understand. "But don't you see? That's a risk I can't take with them."

I feel myself sinking into a calmer state. "You've made your stance on relationships crystal clear, Ranger. Being a father is the biggest relationship there is; it's a serious commitment and one that you can't back out of without crushing hearts and ruining lives." I say, emphatically, trying so hard to make him see my point. "I'm sorry but I can't let my boys grow up with daddy issues because of you."

Once the words are all out, I take a deep breath. I'm tired and sad and feeling very uneasy. All I want to do is run home to my boys, give them a big hug and crush them both in my arms for a long while. It's not like I don't know that anything I do won't make up for the fact that they don't have a father, but what else can I do? I can only love them more than anyone and protect them.

"Did it occur to you that maybe I don't want to keep making the same mistakes?" Ranger's soft answer snaps my attention back to him.

"What?"

He leans back in his chair, his fingers interlocked in front of him. "I understand that you have doubts, and you've made some good points. But you can't just decide that I don't get to know my own kids." He nods his head towards the picture in front of him. "I don't want to keep making the same mistakes, Babe. I want my kids to know me. To grow up without a father… I don't want that for them."

"You were fine doing that with Julie."

He sighs. "It was a different time. A mistake I'm not willing to repeat."

I put my head in my hands. _Why does everything involving him_ _have to be so difficult?_

"We'll schedule a time soon for us to meet—,"

"No." I hear myself saying.

Ranger doesn't like when people don't obey his orders. "Stephanie." He says my name once, in an almost warning tone.

But I can't. "Dammit, Ranger, think about what you're saying!" I cry out, "So far the biggest setback in their lives is when they fall while trying to learn to walk, or when they have to eat strained spinach or when we run out of vanilla pudding. That's it; I can fix those easily and in seconds they're over it. Can you imagine the disappointment when their _father_ decides he doesn't want them anymore and takes off for God-knows-where for however long and without a warning?! I can't fix that, Ranger, I wouldn't even know how to begin!" I put my head in my hands and let out a groan of frustration before looking back towards him. "I know you love Julie in your own way and you're emotionally detached from her, but I don't want my boys to have a father who is emotionally detached. I told you, I can't sit around wondering when it's suddenly going to become convenient for you to kick them out of your life."

"I'm in this, Stephanie."

I look up at him. "Here's a _fact, _Ranger: you've said that to me before." There's a slight wince from him and I can see I've hit home. And, damn, I hate that look lingering behind his eyes, but this time, I can't let it phase me. I can't let him get to me anymore. I've got two little boys to protect. So I get up and start to make my way out the door. "I think it's best if we don't work together." I say calmly. "Consider this my official notice."

--


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

Once I leave RangeMan, I almost feel a weight lifted off my shoulders. I must say, I'm a little proud of myself for not backing down to Ranger. I went immediately to my house and squeezed my boys to me. I went about my day in the normal way, working, drinking coffee and taking care of them, feeling better about my decision every minute. The twins are safe and happy. That's what matters.

Later that evening, when I'm contemplating what to have for dinner, my dad calls. "STEPHANIE," he says loudly into the phone.

I hold the phone away from my ear, "Hey, dad."

"CAN YOU HEAR ME?"

Let me explain something: my poor father still hasn't gotten a hang of this cell phone thing. He's only had his for about a month but he avoids using it whenever possible. I'm convinced he thinks he's talking into a can with a string attached to it. "Dad, it's not on speakerphone. You can talk at a normal volume, you know."

"WHAT?!"

"I said don't yell into the phone!"

"YOU WANT ME TO YELL INTO THE PHONE?"

"No, dad, I want you to stop yelling!" I shout into the phone so he can hear me.

"This stupid…" I can hear him fumbling in the background. "STEPHANIE, I'M COMING OVER AND I SHOULD BE THERE SOON …. STEPHANIE? … stupid modern technology… age of technology my hind foot…"

I can't suppress a giggle. "It's okay, dad, I'm home. Come over whenever."

"OKAY, I'LL BE RIGHT OVER!"

"OKAY, DAD!"

"_Cripes!!_ STEPHANIE, STOP YELLING INTO THE PHONE!"

--

"So what are you going to do?" My father asks me later as I sit digging into the leftovers from dinner he's brought me. We're sitting in the living room and he's playing with the twins on the floor, showing them the new baby tackle boxes he's brought them.

I shook my head and swallowed a bite of chicken. "Find another job."

He nods, "It's that easy?"

I shrug, "Who knows. Maybe, maybe not. I just need something in the mean time. Next semester, I'll sign up to give more classes and I'll look around for other writing opportunities." I watch as he pulls another stuffed toy out of the little tackle box. "Dad, I wish you wouldn't buy them something every week, you're going to spoil them. Besides, my house is small enough and I'm going to have to add on to it if you keep this up."

"This is just the part I forgot about for their birthday. What good is a fishing pole without a tackle box? You tell me that." He grins at Alex who has crawled over to him, waving a stuffed fishy in the air. "Isn't that right, Alex? You can't go fishing without a tackle box can you?" He picks him up and lifts him up high in the air, making Alex laugh. "That's right! I want them to grow up to like fishing." He says to me "It's a good hobby for young boys. Instead of gallivanting on street corners with other teenagers in funny haircuts... doing God-knows-what. Looting stores, sneaking booze, flirting and _texting,_" he says as though its a filthy word, "Nope, not these boys. They'll be wanting to fish. You'll see."

"Ah, yes," I grin in spite of myself. "I wouldn't want them _texting_," my sarcasm is lost on my father, "Dad, you do realize they can't even stand on their own yet, right?"

My dad does an astonishing impression of me and rolls his eyes. "Honestly, I'm not senile. You're confusing me with _your_ grandfather."

"Grandpa Plum?"

"Not _my_ father, your _mother's_ father. That man used to put spiders into jars and collect them as pets." He grunts, "Crazy old cook."

I stifle a laugh. "Man, dad, you really _hated_ your in-laws, didn't you?"

"Who said I hated him? I loved the man. He kept your grandmother away for months at a time. I should have built a monument in his name."

This time, I can't hold back a laugh. "Well, okay, but let this be it on the presents for a while, okay?"

He nods, though I'm pretty sure he's ignoring me. "So, you need money? I've got some savings."

I shake my head. "No, thanks. I'll figure it out. I've got a little in the bank to hold me over for a while. And I can take up some more skips from Vinnie if I'm desperate."

My father shoots me an annoyed look. "If you were desperate, I should hope you'd come to me for some help."

"You know I would. I didn't mean it like that."

"You shouldn't be too proud to ask your parents for help, you know."

I nod, "I know, but I'm fine for now."

"Fine," he says. He puts Alex back down and helps Tove open his own little tackle box.

I watch silently as I eat my way through some mashed potatoes. See, they have a father figure. When I was growing up, I didn't really appreciate my dad the way I should have. I never realized how much he actually did for all of us. He supported his family, he was always there when he needed to be and he put up with a lot, stuff he'd much rather not have dealt with. This is what a father figure should be. This is a _real_ father.

"Well," he says, turning to me. "Now, Stephanie, I don't know how to bring this up…"

"Uh oh," I say automatically.

He frowns, "Now, just listen to what I have to say. You can do that, can't you? It can't hurt to listen," he grunts. "Look, I know you don't go to church anymore on a regular basis and I'm not sure what your stance on religion is these days but I'm guessing your Catholic upbringing stopped you from ending your pregnancy when you had the chance so there's some hope."

It's my turn to frown now. "What's this about?"

"Baptism." He says, finally. "I want you to have the boys baptized."

I groan, "Dad, I don't want a big fuss at mom's church with all of Trenton flocking in to get a look at my kids. You know all the rumors that will be spreading around after they see them, I mean, they look _exactly_ like Ranger, so it won't be hard for them to put two and two together."

"This isn't about the damn 'Burg! They can all go boil their heads for all I care. No, this is about those boys." He fumbles with the buttons on his shirt, "Now, I don't want you to be uncomfortable, but we did bring you up Catholic, and I haven't asked you for anything and since you're being so stubborn about money—,"

"Hold it," I say. "Are you trying to _guilt_ me into this? Isn't that mom's area of expertise?"

"We share the skills, she just uses them more. Is it working?"

I sigh. "I can't say that I haven't thought about it. I was haven't gotten around to planning it. But I don't want it to be in mom's church. It'll be here or somewhere I choose. And I'm only inviting you and mom and grandma. It's not going to be a big deal."

He smiles. "Good. I don't care where or how you do it, as long as it gets done. And we don't have to invite your grandmother."

I laugh. "Dad!"

He clears his throat a few times, "Well, uh… _ahem_… uh, thanks," he stammers out.

I put my plate on the side table next to the couch and give him a hug. "No problem. Thanks, by the way."

"For what?" he asks, awkwardly.

"For everything."

--

* * *

In the week since my last encounter with Ranger, I haven't heard from him. I don't even hear about him from the guys. Hector just waves it off and mumbles something in Spanish when he comes by to inspect my security system. Lester said he was angry that last day we talked and maybe the next but after that he was eerily calm with a quietness and monotonous, automatic action that was rare for Ranger. It worried me a bit, but I didn't let myself dwell on it. It worries Lester also, I can tell. Celia tells me the same thing after class; that he's not around but he doesn't know that she knows. He doesn't know she's in my class either and, frankly, I think it's better that way. I'm sure Ranger would find a way to get angry about that, too. However, Celia doesn't seem to be at all afraid of him… crazy woman.

I won't have the RangeMan income anymore, but I find ways around that; I sign up to give more classes next semester, I agree to help Vinnie with some other skips on certain days; nothing dangerous and only people I know won't come after me. I even talk to the editor at the Jersey Gazette about branching out my column and start to apply at other places. It will work out. I know it will. It _has_ to. I'm just glad the twins are sleeping through the night so I have time to collect my thoughts and sort things out. I don't even want to go into what it was like when they didn't.

The baptism thing is giving me a bit of a headache. I've decided that I want it done when the weather is warmer because wetting a child's head in the middle of winter seems like a bad idea. Then there is the hassle of dealing with the strict guidelines of the Catholic Church and the questions they ask. It got a little uncomfortable when I talked about being an unwed mother. There would be no father at the ceremony. Godparents? I have no idea.

On Saturday after helping Lula with a skip in the early morning, I pick up the boys from my parent's house and meet Emily and Maggie at the big Barnes & Noble in our town where we chat in the coffee area and browse books.

"Oh, good," Emily says, looking down at a sleeping Maggie in her stroller. "She's asleep. I need to make a quick stop at the romance section."

I raise an eyebrow at her. "Romance section? Seriously?"

"Hey, don't judge, I don't have any man to speak of and I keep having dreams about that Lester guy that make me wake up blushing. I have to do _something._" She says as I laugh. "Watch Maggie for me?"

I nod and pull her stroller closer to me as I sit with them. Tove's eyes begin closing also, while Alex is flipping through a baby book with a fuzzy cover. I tuck Tove in, smoothing his silky dark hair back and pull his blanket up. Then I do the same with Maggie, tucking a strand of wavy strawberry blonde hair behind her ear as she sleeps. I yawn and take a sip of the scalding coffee in my hands as I scan the first chapters of the books I have on me. I already have two at home that I'm a chapter into each. I'll make time soon. I know I will.

It's not long before Emily is back with a small stack of paperbacks. "Stocking up?" I ask. "Wouldn't it be easier to just get a vibrator and use your imagination?"

She holds one up for me. "This one is for you." She hands it to me.

I look at it and laugh. "A vampire book? I'm supposed to get my jollies off to Dracula?"

We both giggle. "Trust me on this one." She says. "You won't be able to put it down. Just keep it by your bed."

I shake my head, but take the book with me anyway. I buy the boys each one book, plus two for me, including Emily's suggestion, then we wave goodbye to her and Maggie. I make a quick stop at the Whole Foods in my town (I'm trying to instill healthier eating habits to the boys… and sure, I've picked up a few, too) and then another stop at Trader Joe's (best garlic pizza dough ever! It's what I usually end up making for myself; pizza… but it's homemade, so it doesn't count as 'bad pizza') and then one other quick stop at Dunkin' Donuts (come on, I'm still _me. _Did you think I'd given up on doughnuts?).

When I get home, I immediately put the sleepy boys in their cribs, and then go unload the bags from my car. I'm unloading the last bag when I see a car pull up near my house. It's a grey Cadillac of some sort. Not a cool kind, more like an old man kind of car. I can't see too clearly into it, but there are two men inside.

Feeling a little uneasy, I go inside and lock all my doors.

Half an hour later, I'm finally done putting groceries away and I hear the baby monitor registering two awake babies, so I bring the boys downstairs and feed them. I do a quick check out my window and see the car is still there…

I keep my phone handy, double check my alarm system and keep the boys with me. We play in the living room for a while, rolling a little ball to each other. Alex pushes it towards me, smiling. I push it back to Tove. Tove bangs on the ball when it gets to him.

It's another half hour before my doorbell rings. Feeling weird, I say to the boys. "Stay here, guys." They amuse themselves by crawling around with the ball.

There are the two men standing there when I look through the peep hole.

I don't open the door. "Can I help you?" I ask loudly.

One of the men speaks through the door. "Hello, we're here looking for Stephanie Plum." he says. "I'm Stanley Dwight, Mr. Mañoso's lawyer. We need to speak with you about your children and their safety."

His words don't register right away. _Lawyer?!_ I feel a swift rage piston through me and I open the door just enough for me stare at them. "_Excuse_ me?!"

The man who is speaking looks a little young to be a lawyer; his voice is a little nasally, too. He reminds me of those kids in the playground who are always tattle-tailing and sucking up to teachers with grinning evilly at their peers. "Their father has rights and is suing for partial custody. We have a warrant to get a DNA sample from each twin." He says with a snooty air about him.

I set my jaw and glare at him. "Look, _kid,_ my children are perfectly safe and I'm not letting you anywhere near them. Go play lawyer somewhere else."

The man shrugs. "Either you let us in to see them and get the sample or we call the authorities. It's up to you, lady."

"You'll have to call them, then. In fact, don't bother, _I'm_ calling them." I glare. I'm about to shut the door when a black SUV pulls up in front of the house. My rage starts to bubble inside me and I feel like a volcano that's about to explode. Suddenly, I understand the feeling a grizzly gets when someone goes near her cub… I want to rip someone apart with my bear hands.

Ranger steps out, his face all hard angle. He looks _pissed_. But I'm more pissed. "How _fucking_ dare you!" I yell at him as he gets closer.

His features seem harder, harsher than usual and he's got a look that clearly states _Don't Fuck With Me. _He doesn't even look at me, though, but he immediately turns to the men in front of me. "I thought I made it clear that you weren't to come here." He snarls at them, his tone is loaded and deadly with a look in his eyes that could kill.

The one man on the right, the nasal lawyer, his mood goes from smug to scared shitless in seconds. He looks like he might pee himself, "Mr. Mañoso, I'm glad you got my message." He says, though he doesn't look happy at all. He begins fumbling with the button on his coat. "We didn't expect you to get here so soon. I thought we'd get this done as quickly as possible—,"

"By ignoring my orders?!" His voice is like a pistol.

I'm watching, too focused on being livid as hell at Ranger and wanting to tell him off, when I notice out of the corner of my eye that the boys have left the living room and are crawling towards me, Tove in the lead. For a second I'm thinking of slamming the door, but I don't want to alarm them. I scoop them each up and hold them protectively in my arms, trying to close the door with my legs.

The second Ranger sees them, his angry face slips. Something in his eyes forces me to pause for a second and I'm torn between trying to figure out what it is and telling him off.

It's suddenly like time stands still for him. He stops cold. I can see him taking them in; their silky dark hair, their blue eyes, their skin tone that is a mix of his and mine. They have pouty lips that could be from either of us. They even have his perfectly straight nose and the beginnings of what I'm sure will develop into his strong jaw line.

His sons.

In his trance-like state, he doesn't notice when the other man comes forward. "Well, while we're here, we may as well get what we came for," says the nerdier looking man. He's tall and lanky with beady eyes. "I'm a physician hired by Mr. Mañoso's lawyers to examine the children and provide a DNA match," he explains haphazardly to me while looking at the boys in my arms, "I'm going to have to ask you to hand me one of the boys so I can get a sample." He says to me.

"You touch them and I'm going to knee you where it counts." I say dangerously to him, remembering that I need to get the boys away.

I move to close the doors with my legs again but the doctor stops me, putting his hand on the door and holding it open, "Ma'am, your attitude isn't helping." He says, coming much too close for comfort. I prepare myself to launch another verbal attack and kick him in the gut.

But then he does something stupid. He reaches out, puts his hands on Tove and literally pulls at him until he's out of my arms. "No!" I yell at the guy, holding on for dear life to my son who is looking very anxious. He doesn't want this guy to hold him. The doctor guy is grasping on to him rather roughly, and if I don't let go, he'll hurt Tove more as his hand digs into my son's side. I let my hold on him slip for a split-second, then go to grab him back, but the doctor is already stepping away with him.

"Give. Me. My. Son." I say menacingly. Tove is clearly uncomfortable, this idiot is holding him the wrong way and I think he might be hurting him. His face is scrunching and I can tell he's going to cry.

Ranger is still standing in a trance, staring at his son's face; Alex's, as he sits in my arms frowning at the man holding his brother.

The doctor ignores me. He is touching Tove, examining him with one hand as he holds onto him much too tight with another. He has a cotton swab and is practically prying Tove's mouth open with rough hands. Tove squirms to get away. "Stay still." The man orders him. In my anger I'm frozen though I'm trying to figure out a way to grab Tove away from him without hurting my baby.

Then Tove starts to cry and I react, my maternal instincts on overdrive. "GIVE. ME. MY. SON!" I scream.

My scream snaps Ranger out of his reverie and he immediately moves towards Tove. His anger is back in full force, maybe even double, and it's geared right at the doctor. It's so sudden and intense that if he hadn't been an imbecile who forcibly took my son out of my hands, I would have felt sorry for him. "Give him back. Now." Ranger's tone is low, dangerous and deadly. He's a man of few words but the right ones and it's clear that this guy isn't going to get out of this unscathed.

The lawyer guy is standing with his eyes wide, looking very nervous while the idiot doctor tries to reason. "If I could just get him to stop moving… we're already here, we may as well," he says, his voice a little high. But Tove isn't cooperating and before Ranger gets near enough to them, the doctor guy moves him around a little too roughly. "Stay still," he commands Tove who screams some more. The swab slips out of the doctor's grasp and on the way to catching it, his hand hits Tove in the face with an audible _slap._

A million things happen at once. My blood drains from me and my mind doesn't work anymore; it's focused on my baby in a stranger's grasp. I can't breathe. I hardly see Ranger's hand moving: one second it's by his side and in the blink of an eye it's wrapped tightly around the man's throat, while his other hand reaches for the Tove. I get there first, though in a furious mixture of rage and panic, and as I grab Tove, who is screaming bloody murder, I knee the doctor in the groin making him immediately let go then go in the house, slamming the door behind me. I don't watch as Ranger's eyes go black with fury at the doctor who looks like as though he can't breathe and wants to pee his pants. I don't watch anything. I lock the door, set the alarm, prop a chair up in front of it so no one can turn the knob, then grab the boys again and bolt.

I lock myself and the boys upstairs in my bedroom. Tears are running down my face and I'm trying to desperately calm Tove down as he screams. I can't believe … I just can't believe …

… I don't know what to do—I can't think—I'm angry and scared—God, I'm so many things. I've got this dull pain in my chest I can't seem to get under control… still can't breathe…

I immediately dial Tank's number.

When he picks up I stammer. "Ranger… doctor… hurt Tove… trying to take …. twins… they're here… I couldn't stop them… I couldn't protect …" I say in between huge sobs before breaking down completely while still on the phone. My chest hurts again and somewhere in the back of my mind I know I have to _breathe IN._

Tove is still crying loudly and I'm trying to soothe him at the same time.

"Steph? Calm down. We're on our way." I hear an engine revving in the background.

After hanging up with him I wrap the boys in my arms as I sink onto the floor in the far corner of the room. I frantically kiss Tove's face right where the guy's hand hit him. "It's going to be alright, I promise—I'm not going to let anyone hurt you. Not ever again," I cry, huge, racking sobs taking over my body. I hold them both in my arms, gently rubbing their backs, trying to breathe and to stop my own panicked sobs.

I feel completely shaken. In fact, I'm pretty sure I'm _shaking._ I let this happen to them. What kind of mother can't protect her child from two imbeciles? I have a gun, why didn't I use it? Why didn't I keep them from coming to the door?

"Sshh," I say as soothingly as I can to the babies, in between my own gasps. Tove is still sobbing. "Did he hurt you? I'm— so sorry, buddy, mommy is— so sorry." I cry with him. My sobs are bigger than his now that he's quieted down but mine are coming out in gasps for air. He's sniffling in my arms now as I bounce them on my shaking limbs. I watch them intently, checking for any signs of trauma as Alex stretches out a chubby hand and touches his brother's arm.

The doorbell rings incessantly as time passes at what seems like a snail's pace and each time my heart seizes and I freak all over again, but I don't open it. I know its Ranger. That monster isn't coming anywhere near my kids. But what if he tries to break in? What if he doesn't leave? How did he find out where I lived? I begin crying all over again, feeling totally helpless. For the first time since I had the boys, I feel like a failure.

I'm in a total panic. I can hardly breathe and I just want Tank and Lester to get here. Ranger's phone calls go ignored, and there are lots of them. I stay in my room, huddled on the floor in the far corner, rocking my boys in my trembling arms. Alex strokes an arm out and is steadily patting a now much calmer Tove. Then he moves his hand to my face and I kiss his little palm. "I love you. I'm so sorry, you guys." I sob.

They both look calm, though I'm a basket case. My sobs are huge and the noises of the doorbell, the boys' sniffles, the phone and my own gasping do nothing to calm me. My chest is still hurting. I feel incompetent as a parent, I'm scared. I'm nervous that this may have lasting affects with them. I'm pissed as all hell.

"Mommy is never going to let that happen again." I kiss both of them and hold them tightly to me, ignoring the doorbells and the ringing of my phone.

I don't look out the window to see if anyone has arrived. I don't move. I don't let my boys out of my arms.

Time goes by, I don't know how long.

It seems like forever until Tank calls and when he does I've hardly managed to pull myself together.

"Hello?" I answer.

"Steph, let us in. We're outside."

"Is Ranger there?"

He pauses. "Yes."

"Then, no."

"Steph, look, it was an accident. Ranger explained, it wasn't supposed to go down like this."

I shake my head. "I'm not opening the door until those monsters are gone!"

Tank sighs. "I understand you're upset. But we're here and you know Les and I won't let anything happen to the twins, right?"

I feel fresh tears spring into my eyes. "He let some guy grab Tove and hit him!" I say, my voice cracking, "I couldn't stop it! I watched as some stupid, cruel—," Another stabbing pain in my chest and I wince, gasping for air again.

"Those guys are gone, Steph. One of them is on his way to the hospital with some serious internal bleeding. It's just the three of us down here. Those men weren't supposed to just show up at your house like that." He says something to someone else, which I can't hear. Is my ear ringing? He probably put his hand over the receiver.

A couple seconds later someone else talks into the phone. "Babe."

I feel a deep rage rising up inside me. "You are a monster. I never want you near—,"

"I'm sorry, Stephanie, they weren't supposed to show up here. It was something stupid I considered in anger but I wasn't going to pursue it—"

"—you are a _bastard! I never—"_

"—I came over when I got the call a little while ago that some idiot decided to proceed with it _against_ my authority. They weren't supposed to be here at all. Please, Babe—,"

"—I don't care—,"

"—my usual lawyers got some eager new asshole on the account and he jumped the gun." He interrupts, pleadingly, though at the mention of the men, his voice is rough with anger. "I fired him and the whole law firm, they're never coming back, Babe."

"Leave us alone!" I cry into the phone.

Ranger's voice is soft. "Babe, I'm so sorry. I promise… I _swear_ I won't let anyone hurt you or the boys."

"I'm not coming out until you're gone. I'm going to get a restraining order against you and you are never going to come near my boys again. Do you hear me? NEVER!" I hang up the phone and throw it across the room, where it crashes against the door and breaks into pieces.

Alex and Tove are quiet in my arms but by the looks on their faces I can tell that my anger and yelling has frightened them and they might cry. I squeeze them to let them know everything is alright, even though I'm not sure it is. "I'm sorry I had to yell." I say to them softly but it seems as though my rage is raising my temperature. I continue cooing comforting little nothings at them as I panic and soon they're so quiet that I know they'll succumb to sleep soon. My mind focuses only on getting them to sleep. In minutes slumber takes over.

As soon as I step out of my room and am assured that they're fine for now, the pain in my chest seems to double. I can't breathe correctly and I know something is wrong. I try running downstairs to open the door so Tank can help me but I miss a step and tumble down them instead. The last thing I hear is someone yelling through the door as I'm lying motionless and in terrible pain on the floor: "What the hell was that? Steph?! STEPH?!"

--

* * *

**Thoughts?**


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

Ranger knew that Celia Mañoso Robertson was not a patient woman. Being the oldest of four children will do that to you, though. One would think it would have the opposite effect, but not in her case. She was well known for her anger in their family and many knew not to get on the wrong side of it. Sure, she'd grown a little more tolerant after having a family of her own, but some things are just too much to take. But now here she was, just having slammed the door behind her when she confronted Ranger in his own apartment.

He figured Tank had let her up once he saw the _Do Not Fuck With Me_ look she had on her face right now. One glance at her and he knew he was in for it. Not that he didn't deserve it, of course. He stayed seated on his couch and waited for the tirade to begin.

Ranger always prided himself on being a level headed man. There weren't many things that would set him off to the point of acting without careful, logical thinking. But this was all before he met Stephanie Plum, who had a talent for getting under his skin and past his defenses. It wasn't always a bad thing: she was sweet, funny, beautiful and he could trust her with his life. She had the power to warm him up from the inside out. On the other hand, however, no one could get under his skin quite like she could.

Talking to the lawyers had been one of those impulse things, in the first place. It was a direct action of anger; no reasonable thoughts had gone into _that_ move. No, scratch that; he had reasoned that it was because he had certain rights, which he had. But now enough time had passed for him to be honest with himself about it. He hadn't really wanted to take them away from her, just scare her into doing this his way; the best way, as far as he was concerned. When his orders were disobeyed, there went another surge of impulsive anger, but that had been damage control: he'd needed to get there and stop them from doing whatever they were doing. No one was to touch her. No one was _ever_ to touch her.

Then the moment he saw them… man, talk about a complete loss of the senses. The world seemed to stop. His sons. They were… perfect. There really was no other word. One look and all he wanted was to sell his soul in exchange for the power to stop anything bad from ever happening to them; be it real danger, small ailments or, hell, even bad dreams. One look … he was hooked. Nothing else mattered from that moment on.

And then, of course, there was the moment where some idiot slapped his son. His reaction hadn't exactly been impulsive. No, he was possessed by pure, unadulterated rage. It was one of the few times in his life he had ever been taken over by fury, so much so that the actual events were fuzzy in his mind. All he remembered thinking was something along the lines killing the imbecile. He'd come pretty close, too. If his phone hadn't rang and brought him back to the real world, he may have been facing murder charges.

What was happening to his control? Less than a week back in Trenton and he was losing his mind.

"What. The hell. Is the matter with you?" Celia asked in a deadly quiet voice. He looked up… he'd almost forgotten she was there. Up until this second they had been in total silence; it seemed she, too, needed to get her own anger under control.

Ranger rubbed his temples, anticipating what Celia's rant was going to do to his already surmounting headache. "Stop. I know."

Her eyebrows shot up in mock surprise. "You know? You know _what_, precisely?" She spat. "You know that you're an asshole? You know that you're the scum of the earth? You know that you just sent a woman into a panic who has been working her _ass_ off to support and protect two perfectly innocent little boys who don't deserve to be inflicted with the likes of you?!"

He hung his head. "Yeah."

"Oh, well then, I'll let you in on something you _don't_ know. You _don't _know how hard it must've been for her to flip her whole universe upside-down and be a mother. You _don't_ know what it's like to be a mother to twins who didn't start sleeping through the night until three months ago. You _don't_ know what it's like to work FOUR jobs AND be a full-time mom! You DON'T know that she's wound up so tight from her incredible rigidly structured life because she's had to do it all on her own! You DON'T know what it's like to be a parent and a single one at that!" Her voice elevated to the level of blatant shouting. "She is exhausted all of the time. My GOD, Carlos, what THE FUCK is wrong with you?!" Celia took one breath but didn't stop just because he's put his head in his hands. "You swoop in and decide that everyone and everything has to bend itself to your will just to make things easier for _you?!"_

What she was saying was a louder, more detailed version of what had been replaying in his head for the past hour, only worse. He had been repeating the vision of Stephanie's terrified look when she slammed the door and the sound of her gasping, frantic, frightened voice when she screamed at him on Tank's phone, but he hadn't taken into account what she'd been through before he got back. No, it couldn't have been easy on her. He'd been wondering why she looked so exhausted when he saw her but the big news had driven all other thoughts from his mind.

Shame was a giant smog cloud that engulfed him. He remained silent while Celia continued to tear him a new one. "There seems to be a lot you don't know, Carlos, and a lot of things you seem to have lost. I don't know if you've sold your soul for the power to be a big man with no emotional weakness but if there is even ONE SHRED of decency left in you, you'll call your lawyers off, leave Stephanie alone and try to figure out a way to undo what you've just screwed up. That woman was strong and self-sufficient and doing things the best way she knew how. In one moment of pure STUPIDITY, _you've_ managed to tear her down and shake her confidence. Have you any idea how dangerous that is for a parent?! To think you aren't capable of protecting your own children?!" She paused for the briefest moment. "Well, let me enlighten you. You lose your ability to teach them because you start questioning every decision you make. You don't listen to your instincts, which, trust me, is a lot worse than it sounds. Now, lucky for me, _I_ had a partner through it all, and even when I screwed up, someone was there to take the reins. But she's alone. And now, I doubt she'll ever let anyone in."

Ranger's jaw hurt, it was clenched so tight. "Stop."

"Stop what? Telling you how it is?" Celia asked, "Isn't that exactly what _you_ do even when you have no right to?"

"You think I wanted it to go down like this?!" Ranger shouted back, jumping up from the couch.

"I think that, once again, you were only thinking about _yourself!_"

He glared at her. "What happened today was unplanned. But they're _my_ kids, too. She can't just keep me away from them."

Celia glared right back. "And she should, what? Accept you with open arms? Let you come in, change everything and kiss the ground you walk on because you're Big Bad Ranger and you're always right?!" She folded her arms across her chest. "Do you mean to tell me that you think it should be perfectly fine for you to want absolutely no emotional ties to anything and anyone, and yet still be allowed into those boy's lives as an absentee father?"

Ranger and Celia stared off at each other, neither one moving, or even blinking. It was a long silence.

Finally, Ranger closed his eyes, walked to the kitchen area, rested his hands on the counter and hung his head. It was only then that Celia let her tone drop to a more civilized pitch. The attitude, however, stayed intact. "Are you even sorry?"

He didn't look up. "You have no idea," he said with a sigh.

"Good," said Celia. "Then maybe... just _maybe_, you're on the right track." When another full minute of loaded silence went by, she issued her command. "This one is going to leave some scars. And so help me, if I find out that you've done another idiotic—,"

"I won't." Ranger cut her off. "I… _won't_… hurt them. Any of them."

Celia nodded once. "Good." She turned on her heel and made towards the door.

"How…" Ranger's voice was low and he cleared his throat. "How can I fix it?"

Celia didn't answer for a long time, so long that for a terrible moment, he was afraid she'd given up on him. "With time," she said simply. "She's going to need time to heal the mental wounds. When she starts going through her normal routine again, then you can start small. And I mean really, _really_ small."

Something about the way she said '_mental wounds_' bugged him. "Where is she now?" He asked with a dreading feeling building in his stomach.

Celia hesitated. "The hospital. She had a panic attack and fell down the stairs."

Ranger was sure he felt his heart stop beating. His hands turned to fists on the kitchen counter. "How are the…." He swallowed then cleared his throat. "Are the twins…?"

"They're fine. They were asleep in their cribs at the time." She said, softly. "They're with someone she trusts and will see her as soon as she wakes up."

"She's…?"

She sighed. "I don't know the details, but I heard that she had a small concussion, some bruising and a few minor scrapes. I don't know how long they'll keep her."

Ranger couldn't say anything else. It had been so long since he felt this bad that he couldn't have named the emotions if he wanted to. He couldn't even look towards his big sister.

But she understood. She came up behind him, put her arms around his waist and hugged him from behind. She held on through the barely-controlled shakes and heavy breathing spells. "Don't worry too much. If I thought it was too late, I wouldn't be here."

He wanted to make some offhand joke about how she would take any excuse to wag her finger at him but couldn't summon the buoyancy.

--

* * *

--

I _hate_ hospitals.

_This_ hospital is particularly grueling. Every time I wake up in this damn place no one can give me any answers that make sense. What are doctors good for anyway?

As it turns out I had a panic attack which was very scary. It felt like a heart attack to me, but what do I know? Tank, apparently, burst through the door shortly after I fell down the stairs. He called 911, got Lester to wait at the house for my mother to pick up the twins and stayed with me in the ambulance.

I am beyond grateful that he didn't call Ranger.

The panic attack has made the doctors run all sorts of tests on me which take an annoying amount of time, but the injuries from falling down the stairs are making me stay as still as possible. I'm sore all over and my neck is hard to move. I'm lucky I didn't break anything. My head hit the railing and then the floor but it wasn't all terrible. No concussion, at least. There's a plus.

It's been hours since I heard from anyone about the twins. This must be the most traumatic day of their lives. I'm desperate to hear about them. Tears form in my eyes as I wonder about the lasting effects. After the doctors finished their incessant testing, I had asked Tank to please call Emily. She went to my sister's house, as soon as she heard, to check on the boys at my frantic request. After all, she's a trained psychologist and I need some assurance. Now she's here with me after having guaranteed me that the boys were fine and she's doing what she can to distract me. And although I hate being weak and not be able to do things for myself, I can't express how grateful I am for the friends I have.

"I hear Tank had to break down your door." She says and I groan. "Relax, lady, Lester is already having another one installed. Those guys would take a bullet for you."

I can't help a small smile. "Yeah. The feeling is mutual."

"You know, Steph, I don't want to pry, but as a psychologist and your friend, I'm a little worried about you."

"Oh?"

"Panic attacks. Not good."

I wave her off, "I know, it's not good, but it was just the bulk of everything today. I'll be fine."

"Your doctors don't seem to think so. It doesn't take a genius to see that Anna was nervous. It's why she kept scheduling tests." Emily does know most of the doctors in the hospital, being kind of in the medical profession before. She gave up the active practice of psychology and began teaching to have more time to raise her daughter. Of course, she would be on first name basis with my doctor, Anna Whitaker. It seems like everywhere I move to, everyone seems to know everyone else. But at least this town doesn't have a gossip mill that I know of.

"She only kept scheduling more tests because you kept asking her about it."

"She would've done them anyway; I was merely discussing the possible causes." She replies. "I've been thinking a lot about this and I think you should see a psychologist."

"What?! I'm not crazy!"

"Of course you're not, but a psychologist can help you better analyze the things in your head and get to the root of some fears."

I wave her off, "I'm not the crazy one in my family. My grandmother is."

"Actually, she seems to have a healthy level of activity in her life. She's clearly making up for some past time spent hiding her inner desires, but she's very direct and knows what she wants."

"Hold up," I say, "You think _I'm_ crazy but Grandma Mazur is just fine? Where did you say you got your degree from?"

Emily laughs. "You're not crazy. But you are very uptight and overly obsessive about certain things and it's getting worse."

"Like what?"

"Like the boys. You're a great mom, Steph, but you need time for yourself. You keep sheltering them the way you have and they're going to grow up with the same fears you have. Untrusting, running around in a hurry for no reason, jittery because you think the bottom is going to fall out of any situation you're in."

I frown, "Stop shrinking me."

"I'm not a shrink. But maybe it would do you some good to see one."

"I don't think so. I don't have _time!_ I have to find another job now to make up for the loss of income from RangeMan. And I'm not untrusting. I'm just a little over protective, but _hello,_ I've been stalked by some pretty crazy dudes in the past so I have a right to be. You have no idea how many crazy people are out there."

"Yes, but that doesn't explain why you still have their cribs in your room."

I freeze as she hits a nerve.

She continues slowly, "As I recall, the nursery was finished about 6 months ago… I helped you paint. They're still sleeping through the night, right?" She asks gently.

"I know… it's just… it's not time. I can't explain it." I say, carefully. She doesn't understand. Maybe she can't. _I_ can hardly understand it.

"Steph—," but she doesn't get to finish because the door opens.

Finally the doctor comes into the room. "Stephanie," she says as she walks in with a folder. "I have your results. Is this a good time?"

I nod. "Yes. Please come in." I sit at the edge of the hospital bed, anxious.

Dr. Whitaker steps towards me and sighs. "Okay, do you want to good news or the bad news first?"

I frown. "Good news."

"There is no sign of permanent damage from your fall."

"Alright, what's the bad news?"

"Your other results weren't so great." She begins, searching the papers in her hands, "Your stress tests showed an immense load on your nervous system, your blood test show a slowly rising case of anemia and high blood pressure. Your body, in short, is worn out and it doesn't seem like it has the energy _or_ the nutrients to catch up to you."

I sigh, a little relieved, "That doesn't actually sound _so_ bad. It's not like I'm in immediate danger or anything."

Dr. Whitaker pushes her reading glasses up onto her head and gives me a stern look. "It's only been 7 months since your last check-up. I remember because it was impossible to schedule and you were postponing all the time. You were very healthy then and, frankly, I'm alarmed at the speed in which that's dropped. What's going on, Stephanie?"

I shrug, "I've just been busy. Before I was breastfeeding so I _had_ to eat certain things and avoid certain things. I still have the list on my refrigerator. But now, it just saves time if I don't."

"Regardless of whether or not you're breastfeeding, you need to stay healthy. From the looks of it, your intake is very little and the bulk of it is made up of sugars and high salt content. But what alarms me the most is your stress test. This amount at your age… it's a little frightening. Your body doesn't seem to be able to keep up with you. How much sleep do you get per night?"

"About 4 hours. Sometimes 5."

"Not enough. Not _nearly_ enough."

Emily coughs out something that sounds a lot like "told you so."

I stick my tongue out at her and she giggles. "I'm the mother of twins, doctor." I say, turning back to Dr. Whitaker. "It's not like I can lounge around and eat Twinkies all day."

"Well, cut out the Twinkies, your body doesn't need them, but _do_ lounge around. I'm prescribing some sleep medication for you, a nutrition plan with certain foods you _must_ have in addition to whatever else you want to eat. But, please, cut back on potato chips and other ridiculously salty things. Fritos and Coke do not make a good meal."

I turn to glare at Emily. "She's your doctor!" She says defensively, "She has a right to know about your lunch menu."

"Also," the doctor continues with a small smile, "I'm going to ask you to take it easy for the next week or so. Call in sick, sleep, hire a babysitter and relax. That's an order. I'm scheduling you to be back here for a check-up in 6 months." She says. I nod gently and she hands me a prescription, tells me to have a good day and leaves the room.

There is a long stretch of silence. "I'm not taking sleeping pills," I tell Emily.

"But will you see a psychologist."

"When? The medical bills alone are going to cut way into my expenses. Plus I have mortgage payments due soon and I'm out of one job already."

"Okay, don't hate me for this, but what about asking Ranger for money?"

"No."

"Okay, then. How about giving Donald Trump a lap dance? I hear he only tips using hundred-dollar bills."

--


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

I don't leave my house the next week, trying at least to comply with doctor's orders a little bit. I mean, I'm not taking the sleeping pills she prescribed and I'm not handing my kids over to anyone else for a week, but using a couple of my sick days at the University can't hurt. Plus I can email out assignments, and this gives me time to apply for a new job. I send out resumes like crazy, to anything nearby that has a shot of fitting my weird schedule.

There's a feeling in the pit of my stomach that irks me; as though I'm back in middle school and I failed a test and now I can't quite look the teacher in the eye without feeling guilty. I never really thought I'd make a good mother; I'd never wanted to be one, but I'm doing the best I can and it sucks that it's not enough. _Those boys deserve better,_ I think sadly from time to time. They seem to be doing fine, but I can never be too sure. I spend a lot of time hugging them or kissing them and making sure nothing scares them but they've always been a little fearless anyway so, until I start seeing signs that they aren't anymore, I'm not going to panic.

Thankfully, Lester had a new door in place by the time I got back home and Hector had made sure everything was secure again. I've received a lot of phone calls this week; Lula, Tank, Lester, Celia, Emily, Mary Lou, Hector, and they visit also, trying to coax me out of hiding and leave the twins in their able hands, but I can't: I'm more nervous than ever about being separated from them. It makes me a bit frantic.

Ranger calls twice. I can't bring myself to answer. What could he possibly say? The one thing I've decided is that if he wants to sue me, I'm not giving in without a fight. I may not be mom of the year but I've done the best I can and that's more than he can say. I doubt he even knows their names… he hasn't even asked.

My friends and family are helping to sustain me. My mother brings me meals, Valerie comes over when the girls are in schools to sit with the boys, as does Grandma Mazur. Celia, though, took one look at my doctor's list of foods and me to repeat verbatim what the doctor had said. It must have been her that sent Lester over here to stock, not only my fridge, but my entire house. Food, blankets, baby clothes, laundry detergent, fashion magazines in case I get bored… you name it. He ignored me when I said I didn't need anything and he told me he was simply the messenger/delivery person and the orders had come from above.

On Thursday night after the boys are down, Lula calls and tells me she's coming over.

"Hey," she gives me a one armed hug when she gets here.

I hug her back. "Hey. You brought Pino's!"

The box in her hand is large and smells of pepperoni and my mouth waters. "I sure did, I figured you didn't have nothing with grease here. Doctors don't always have all the answers. They keep telling you cut out grease," she shakes her head, "Uh-uhn, girl. Everybody knows you need a little grease in your system."

I laugh as I follow her to the kitchen where she puts the box down on the island. "Thanks. You're so thoughtful."

"How are the boys?"

"Asleep. You'll never guess what happened. Alex said his first word today."

Lula gasps happily. "Really? What did he say? 'Mama'?"

I shake my head as I go to one of the cupboards and grab two plates. "No. He said 'Tove'."

She laughs and clutches her hand to her heart, "That is too sweet. He said his brother's name. Where is that boy? Aunt Lula needs to give him her Lula-kisses!"

"They're already asleep," I say. "It was so cute, though; they were playing with a ball and Tove crawls over to go get it but didn't roll it back right away and I guess Alex got impatient because he just called his name."

Lula laughs, again. "They're growing up fast. I can't believe they're talking already. You remember when you moved in here and you got so crazy because they wouldn't go to sleep?"

"Ugh," I shudder, "They wouldn't sleep at the same time. If one was asleep, the other was up and running around. I almost passed out from exhaustion." I pause. "Thanks for helping out."

Lula had been here a lot when they were first born; her and Tank were helping me get the house in order while I dealt with the twins. She'd made some colorful suggestions about getting them to sleep too. The more they would cry, the more ridiculous the suggestions became. It went from rocking them, to signing and then to chloroform. I'm pretty sure she was kidding.

"Girl, I've got your back. Haven't I always had your back? You better believe it. And I also had your back when I saw Batman the other day." I try not to react to her reference of Ranger. "I really let him have it," Lula continues. "You know, once I was through with him he looked damn sorry, too."

I shrug. "Thanks, I guess."

"Tank says Ranger's been in a state ever since he heard you were in the hospital. Ever since those people showed up here, actually. He says he ain't never seen Ranger so angry. I asked him how he could tell 'cause you know how Ranger is, always broodin' and shit. He says it's a different kind of brooding." She continues. "Apparently he's dropped the lawsuit. You hear that? Ain't nobody comin' after those babies."

I breathe a sigh of relief. "Are you sure?"

"That's what Tank said."

"How sure is Tank?"

"Tank never says anything unless he's sure about it. Like when he said he wanted to throw me against a wall and have his way with me, I thought it was a metaphor, but it turns out he knew what he was saying."

I scrunch my face. "Lula! Waaaaay too much information. Way too much."

She ignores me, "Anyway, you better not let Ranger make you afraid of the world."

"I'm only staying in on doctor's orders!"

"Good. Because what happened is no reason to lock yourself in."

"Exactly,"

"Right. So why don't you let Tank or someone sit with the babies tonight and you and me will go out. Girl's night." She looks at me.

I shake my head, "No. It's too late. And I'm not going to be one of _those_ moms. I'm not Dina Lohan nor Britney Spears, thank you very much."

"Okay then, how about you let them stay with the boys tomorrow and we go have a spa day?"

I bite my lip. "Nah, the boys are on a really weird schedule and—,"

"Girl!"

"What?" I ask innocently.

Lula rolls her eyes and sucks her teeth. "You know exactly _what._"

I hesitate, biting my lip still. I don't even realize when I start nervously ripping up the pizza crust in my hands. "You don't understand… I couldn't …" I feel fresh tears surfacing and I try to hold them back. "I _let_ that guy take my son right out of my hands. What kind of mother does that?"

"Does what?" Lula shakes her head. "You didn't _let_ him. You did everything you could to protect that boy. _Everything_ _you could_. It ain't gonna happen again."

"How can I be sure of that?" My voice cracks. "I'm supposed to protect them. I didn't."

"You did. Girl, those boys are lucky to have you. You doin' a damn fine job of raising them." She says. "A damn fine job."

We eat in silence once my tears get under control.

--

* * *

So, after a week of some relaxation, I return to my schedule but I'm still not being separated from them and consequently bring them everywhere with me. I bring them to my editor's meeting with me. The editor doesn't mind and I feel lucky that they are so well behaved. I bring them to class with me and they stare wide eyed at the people around them. I set up a portable play yard in the room and conduct my class that way. No one minds. A couple of the students come up after class and try to play with them. The boys laugh, loving the attention.

The only problem is carrying around the extra weight. Probably won't look good on my next stress test but whatever. Maybe my arms will be super toned by then.

At the end of class Celia comes up. "Steph, I'm so glad you're back!" She says, giving me a hug. She goes to the twins, gives them a kiss on their heads and picks Tove up. "I'm so sorry about what happened," she says for the billionth time since I got back from the hospital. She begins talking really fast in furious Spanish. "_Ese hermano mío tiene que tener una cabeza hecha de—,_"

"Celia," I interrupt with a small smile. "I really don't understand what you're saying when you do that."

She controls herself, "Sorry. I forget. Seriously, just thinking about it! Ugh! The nerve!" I let her put the boys in their strollers while I pack up the portable play yard and we make our way out.

I walk with her towards the day care center anyway, since my car is parked closer in that direction. On the way there we run into Emily. She immediately pulls me into a hug. "Stephanie. I'm so glad you're back." Emily took charge of grading some papers for me, which I hugely appreciated. It can't have been easy on top of what she already does.

"Me too." Celia says, "Class is the only time I have away from home, the whole email thing wasn't working for me."

"Ah ha, so you wanted me back for selfish reasons, huh?"

Celia grins, "Completely selfish."

Emily chimes in, "Speaking of people who need to be a tad more selfish," she says pointedly at me, "have you thought any more about what I said? I could give you some names."

"Nope."

"What's she talking about?" Celia asks.

"Emily wants me to see a psychiatrist." I tell her with a roll of my eyes

"A _psychologist._ They are way less judgmental."

"Oh, because she's crazy now? Hm… I agree." Celia says seriously and then grins when I shoot a glare at her.

Emily bit back a grin, "She's just got some tendencies that need working out before she projects them onto the boys."

I roll my eyes. "I'm _fine!"_

"Really? Then how come you're carrying around a giant portable playpen, a diaper bag that's bigger than normal, plus an overstuffed purse? You look like a packed mule."

Celia and I both let out a laugh. "Okay, alright," I say, still chuckling, "It is a bit much, all this stuff but it's been too soon for me to leave them anywhere. I'm just a little nervous about those idiots showing up again."

"Oh, honey, those people are gone for good. One of them is in the hospital and the other ran crying to his mommy." Celia says. "Lester told me. And Ranger isn't pursuing anything. I'm positive about that, he assured me himself."

"Well, they'll be back in day care soon. No worries. Oh, but you're still coming by today to check up on them right?" I ask Emily.

"Seriously, Steph, they're _fine!_ They are not the ones that need the help."

"Emily—,"

"But, of course, if it will ease your mind, I will come over tonight and 'shrink' them, as you like to call it."

I smile. "You're the best! I'll even supply dinner. _And_ dessert."

"Good deal."

Emily heads off to her car and I'm left walking with Celia. "Hey, you didn't mention anything to your brother, did you? What you said about him assuring you he wasn't pursuing the lawsuit… you didn't… um…."

Celia shakes her head, "I didn't overstep my boundaries as a know-it-all big sister. Don't worry."

I frown, "Why am I not convinced?"

"Because you worry too much. Wasn't that what your doctor said? That you're crazy now?"

I can't help a small laugh before I say goodbye to her and go home, trying to relax a bit as I check my mail for job application responses. I make pizza for us while I wait for Emily to arrive. When the doorbell rings I jump a little. Okay, so the doorbell sound makes me a little nervous: sue me. But when I check, baseball bat in hand, it's only Emily and Maggie.

I put the bat back into the hall closet quickly before letting them in out of the cold. "Oh, for crying out loud, when will it be warm again?" Emily whines. She's changed out of her business casual wear and into jeans and a sweatshirt.

I laugh. "We've got a few more months before spring. Hell, winter has barely gotten off the ground yet."

"Don't remind me."

I let Emily and the kids sit in the living room. She examines them while I pull the homemade pizza out of the oven. We eat in the living room as she watches them interact. Tove, Alex and Maggie are all playing with toy cars, pushing them around on the ground.

Emily watches closely. "Steph, honestly, I don't think you have anything to worry about with the boys." She tells me quietly as she swallows a bite of pizza.

"Are you sure?"

"_They_ are fine. Look, they have no problem interacting with each other or other children. They don't shy away from any stranger who comes up to them as though they're afraid. They're fine." She says with so much certainty that I feel a weight lift off my shoulders.

"But…" She continues.

And I know what's coming. "I know, _I'm _not fine."

"Look, you clearly have some anger and fear towards the father, who seems to not really want them any real harm." I look aghast but she continues, "My suggestion is that you talk to him. If only to ease your own mind. You need to accept that they're not in danger and that you're instincts will kick in when they need to. You've let your obsession surmount and if you keep it up you're going to transfer it to them. It's not healthy."

I sigh. "I can't help it."

"You have to try." She says seriously, "Not just for you, but for them. According to Lester, those men are never coming back into your lives, so you need to put them behind you. Distract yourself, do something fun. Go on vacation, anything to get you back to being you. And relax with the over protective thing. You can be separated from them and things will still be okay."

"I don't know…"

"Look, start small. Start by moving their cribs into the nursery. It's beyond time."

"Hey, it's not like they don't almost have their own room. It's separated from my room."

Emily rolls her eyes, "Yeah, by a divider."

"They don't know that, they hated that thing when I first put it up."

"Right, but they got used to it. They'll get used to this, too. It's time."

I nod. "Yeah. I've been avoiding it for so long. It's so much easier to reach them. And now…" I shake my head vigorously to clear the thoughts. "You're right. I have to. I have to learn to be separated. Cut the umbilical cord and whatnot."

"And don't lose yourself. Part of what makes you a great mom is _you_. You need time to yourself also. For so long all you've done is work and take care of the twins. Work, twins, work, twins… it's a crazy cycle, no wonder you're so wound up."

I groan, "Why does everyone keep telling me I'm uptight? I'm not uptight, I'm just more _structured_ lately. Structure is good, people!"

She ignores me, "Do things yourself. Go to movies, go to a party, anything. Try to get a bit of your old life back… you'll be happier and in turn, so will the boys."

"You think that would be okay?"

"Steph, every mommy needs a little 'me time' every once in a while. It doesn't mean you love them any less."

I nod along.

"And speaking of 'me time', did you read that book I told you to read."

I feel my eyes widen and blood rushes to my face. "Yes."

A grin is spreading across Emily's face. "Aaaaand?"

"It was SO HOT!" We both erupt into ridiculous giggles. "I mean it. I've never been a supernatural fiction fan, but those vampires are so hot! I love him, I love Wrath, the vampire king! He's my favorite!"

Emily laughs. "Oh, just wait until you read the other ones. The next one is hot, too. They all are."

"I can't wait to get them. I'm going tomorrow to buy the whole set."

"Good!" She says. "You'll love them. Especially Rhage… and Zsadist… yum!"

"Emily, look at you! Don't you already have a man who doing very dirty things to you at night?"

"No!" She blushes.

"Uh huh. So Lester is what? A shopping buddy?"

She shrugs. "We're friends. We're both into cars."

"Right." I say pointedly, "Seems to me like you both want to get under each other's hoods so what's the hold up?"

"Steph!" She says is a high pitched squeal. "I do, I _really_ do, but I don't know… he probably has a girlfriend."

"He doesn't."

"No way a man that good looking isn't taken."

"He's not."

She shakes her head. "Then there must be something wrong with him."

"There isn't. You're a psychologist, Em. Have you noticed anything wrong with him?" I ask her.

"He likes ninja movies. There's a flaw."

I roll my eyes. "Right. And _I'm_ the paranoid one. You should give him a shot. He's a really good guy. And he's great with kids."

"I know, you should see him with Maggie. She loves him." Emily gets a little quiet. "To be honest, that's what I'm afraid of. I don't want her getting attached and then it not working out. These are crucial years in a child's life."

I nod. "I get what you're saying." We stay quiet for a while, watching the kids. Maggie and Alex are laughing as Tove makes silly noises and pushes around a toy. It's like they're all talking in their baby language. "Hey, how about we each agree to try something new." I tell her. "I mean, you just said I need to break out of this rut I'm in and I think you need to have some fun, too. So I'll do it if you do it?"

"Hmm," she thinks for a minute. "I think we can do that."

"Good. I'm going to start tomorrow. I'm going to leave the twins with my Grandma Mazur." I say, wavering for a second, "You call Lester and invite him over for dinner."

Emily gasps. "I can't do that, that's too forward."

"So what? You be in the driver's seat in the relationship. Trust me, he'll take over soon enough."

She smiles. "He is _really_ hot."

"He's also really sweet and funny and he likes you."

She takes another bite. "Mm, this pizza is awesome."

"Thanks," I say with a smile, "I just empty the contents of my fridge onto ready-made dough. It's really become quite an art form."

--

* * *

**This is one of those in-between chapters before something more exciting happens, so bare with me. The exciting stuff is coming up soon. **

**On a side note: did you guys know that they are making a Stephanie Plum movie?! Its called one for the money, but Steph is being played by Katherine Heigl……. She wouldn't be my first choice. It was supposed to be Reese Witherspoon playing the role, but it went to Heigl instead. I'm going to stay optimistic about this one but if you want to look up details, it's called One For The Money and from the looks of it, it's shaping up to be a cupcake story instead of a babe. I just **_**know**_** that they're not going to do Ranger justice. I just know it.**

**Another side note: I didn't get to respond to about 50% of the reviews last time because of a certain lovely boyfriend of mine, but please know that I will read and appreciate each and every one. Thank you guys so much!**


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

Thanksgiving is a calm affair at my parent's house and then it's time for me to get a Christmas tree. This is going to be the boy's first Christmas… well, that they'll be awake for… hopefully. But I want to it be amazing. I start decorating the house, something I _love_ to do. Sure, it's a bit early to start, since Thanksgiving only just ended, but who doesn't love Christmas? I want the twins to love it as much as I do so I play Christmas songs and buy twinkling lights that I'll eventually put up. I pop ready-made Christmas cookie dough in the oven so the whole house smells like gingerbread and sugar cookies. The cookies themselves go into a Santa shaped cookie jar on my kitchen table (No more guns in cookie jars for me... the twins are around!)

My house is small but I have I large window in front that I put lights on. The outside of the house will have to wait for when I have more time and when I can borrow someone's ladder.

I talk Emily into meeting me at the local Christmas tree lot to pick out a tree. "I don't see why I need to get a real tree when my plastic one is just fine," she says as she pulls a ski cap onto her dirty-blonde hair.

"It's not the same." I say. "You don't get that amazing pine smell. You can't have a fake tree."

"They make air fresheners that have that pine smell." She tells me. "It's amazing. One little spritz and poof! Your house smells like a, enchanted forest. It's miraculous!"

I laugh. "It's not the same!"

"Sure it is."

We get to the lot and I put the boys in their double stroller while Emily buts little Maggie in her stroller. The boys look so cute all bundled up for winter. They have ski caps and mini ski jackets on over jeans and sneakers. They look like mini snowboarders. I should have put on their baby sunglasses to complete the look. Maggie looks adorable, too with her pink puffy coat on and furry hood over her head so I line them up and dig the camera out of my purse to snap a picture. I'm sure every mother out there would agree with me: when your kids are babies and they're this adorable, it's best to have a camera around at all times.

I'm overwhelmed by the smell as we walk though the isles of trees. "Mmm. Guys, do you smell that?" I say, bending down to talk to the boys. "Doesn't it smell good? Here, smell." I hold out a fallen piece of pine that has fallen on the floor. "Isn't that great?! We're getting a Christmas tree!" My excitement spreads to them and they smile. But I get the feeling they're more into the toys they're holding than the actual trees. "Boys, Christmas is coming. Yay!" I clap.

They drop the toys clap too.

Emily and I laugh. "I love when they do that." She says.

We walk around for a little bit, analyzing trees. There are big ones, fat ones, skinny ones, tiny ones… all shapes and sizes. "I definitely want a small one." I tell her. "Nothing too big is going to fit in my living room."

"How about I just get one of the tiny ones that will fit on my coffee table?" Emily says. "That's a compromise."

"How will you fit presents under it?"

"I don't have _that_ many people I'm buying gifts for. I'm not Santa Clause, you know."

I sigh, "Well, as long as you get a real tree, I guess that'll be good enough."We look around at the smaller trees. "What _are_ your holiday plans, anyway?" I'm hesitant to ask, knowing well that Emily doesn't have family in the area.

"I don't know… it's weird, my dad and I were never big on the holidays when he was alive," she says. Emily's father passed away a couple years ago, before she had Maggie. She's always been a bit of a loner, since I've known her anyway, but sometimes I wonder what it was like before her father passed away, since during the every few times she mentions him, I get the impression that they were really close. "Now that Maggie is around, though, I may want to change that. For her sake."

"So, you'll be spending it with family?"

She shakes her head. "Goodness, no. My dad was an only child and his parents died a long time ago. My mother's family… how do I explain them?" She thinks for a moment, "Well, she died when I was a kid and they didn't think it was appropriate for a young girl to spend her time tinkering with used cars with her father, like I did. When I was sixteen, I agreed to go to Cotillion; they're from Alabama and really big on the whole privileged society thing. Well, when I punched my date in the face for moving his hand a little too far south, they were humiliated. Haven't heard from them since." She says with a satisfied grin.

"Oh my gosh!" I say with a laugh. "Did you get in trouble?"

Emily laughs, "Are you kidding? My dad told me it was the proudest moment of his life. After that, he bought me my very first car: vintage 1967 GTO, in a sparkly blue color that he had expertly restored himself. I still have it."

I smile, "I don't know what that is, but I'm assuming it's good." She laughs. We gab a little more and I finally decide on a pretty full looking short tree. The attendant comes up and helps us load it up onto my car. "We also need garland. Do you have that?" I ask him.

"Sure thing, ma'am," he says. We get a bunch of those, Emily gets some too after I nag her about it. We pay the man and are walking back to our cars when her phone rings.

"Hello?" I see her smile widen when the person responds. "Hi, how are you?"

She mouths 'be right back' and I nod, indicating I'll watch the kids while she talks on the phone. I have a feeling I know who it is. Lester and Emily have been talking on a regular basis lately. I play with the three kids, talking to them and they either smile at me (Maggie), wave a toy at me (Tove) or ignore me (Alex; he is working on quite a spit bubble, so I'm not offended). When Emily gets back, she's all smiles. "And who was that, hmm?"

Her grin widens, though it looks like she's trying to stifle it. "Lester."

I laugh. "I see."

"Do you mind if we wait for a bit? He's nearby and he seems to agree that I can't have a plastic tree _or_ a miniscule one. He wants to pick one out for me. I'd rather not wait by myself."

"Absolutely." I say. My curiosity gets the better of me. "Are you two dating?"

She shakes her head. "No. I don't want to start anything serious because of Maggie. I think Lester understands. But I _did_ keep my end of our bargain." She grins. "We've been… hanging out, I suppose is the best way to describe it. He's so sweet. You should see him with her, too."

There's a slow smile spreading across my face, "That's good!"

"He seems good. But I'm worried. I mean, after what you told me happened with you and Ranger…"

I nod. "I understand. But it was my fault. I should have known better. Ranger made his intentions clear at the very beginning."

"I guess." She says, biting her lip "Okay, I have to tell you something and I don't think you're going to like it."

"What?" I ask.

"The last time I saw Les, we were in a restaurant in Trenton… it was him and some friends… Ranger was there."

I force myself not to react. "Okay."

"Well, while Les went to grab us drinks, Ranger asked me about you… and the twins." She says. I stare straight ahead. "He wanted to know how you were holding up since… well, you know. He wanted know if you were okay, if you had everything that you needed, if the twins were alright. He asked if _they_ needed anything and… if you were dating someone."

I give a humorless laugh. "I don't see why any of that should matter to him… he's probably trying to get information for another lawsuit against me."

She shakes her head. "No, Steph, I don't think so. Anyway, I kind of got to talking to him a while, and I asked if _he_ was dating someone. He said no. I asked about the lawsuit, too. He said, and I quote that 'it was an impulsive mistake that will never be repeated'."

Despite the fact that I want to stay angry at him, I feel a lot better at the news. I didn't want to have to face Ranger in court. Three people have now told me he dropped it… I'm almost starting to believe it. "Really? Was he telling the truth?"

"As far as I can tell, yes he was." She says, "But, really, I've never seen a man look so depressed. He was expressionless, sort of. It reminded me of a study I did on soldiers with Post Traumatic Stress Disorder… he had that look in his eyes. But when we talked about you or the twins, he was… I don't know. Take it from a trained psychologist… he's repenting." She pauses. "I don't know if you're going to hate me for this or not… I kind of told him stories about the boys. Like about their birthday party and their temperament and such. He was as cool about it as he could be on the outside but it was like he was internally _grasping_ for information."

"It doesn't matter now anyway." I say. "I can't wait until he goes back wherever he came from and leaves me alone." As I say the words, I feel a certain sadness in my gut. The words are true, but that truth is so heartbreaking when I think about how great a friend he used to be. For the first time in a long time, I let myself miss parts of my past.

I can't lie to myself; I miss Ranger. The Ranger I knew: my friend, my mentor… the guy I loved against my better judgment. Even if we couldn't be anything more than friends, I wish I could forget what happened two years ago. But that kind of heartbreak leaves scars that I don't know how to begin to heal.

As I steel myself against harsh memories of him, one thought flashes in my head out of nowhere: _am I keeping him away for the boy's benefit or for mine?_ The thought scares that crap out me…

Emily nods but says nothing.

Minutes later a black SUV pulls up next to us. Lester gets out of the passenger seat.

My heart catches in my chest as I see who is in the driver's seat. _Speak of the devil._ "No." I say turning to Emily. "Did you know…?"

She shakes her head, "Honestly, I had no idea. I thought Les was alone."

Les jogs up to us. "Hey." He grins at Emily. "Ready to buy a tree?"

"I guess." She says, smiling as he kisses her cheek before bending down and pinching Maggie's nose, "But as I was telling Steph, I still don't see what's wrong with my plastic one."

I interrupt before he can respond. "Hey, Lester. I'm going to leave you guys to it."

They both nod, and Lester bends down to give a little high-five to the twins. "Alright. Bye, Steph. Bye, guys!"

I leave them, ignore the black SUV that's still standing in the same spot and quickly buckle the boys into their car seats, they're already dozing off. As I finish buckling Alex into his seat, I hear the SUV door open and close. _Crap._

"Babe." He says as he comes up to me. I stare at him and say nothing. "I want to apologize, in person about that day."

I still say nothing.

He closes his eyes. "They weren't supposed to show up at your house. And the doctor wasn't supposed to touch him against your will. He wasn't supposed to touch him at all. In any case, I've dropped the suit."

I stare at him silently.

"Hopefully," he continues when he sees I'm not going to respond, "one day you'll trust me enough to let me know them. I should've stopped him from touching the boys, but when I saw them that day… for the first time… I don't know, I couldn't tear my eyes away." He pauses, "They're beautiful, Babe." He glances at the backseat where the boys are falling asleep. "Do you need anything?"

"No," I say as stoically as possible.

He continues to stare softly at the boys, "Tank told me their names… you gave them my middle name."

I nod. "Yes." I had given them each the name Carlos as a middle name.

"Why?"

I shrug. "It seemed the right thing to do at the time."

He leans down, resting a forearm on the car. "I screwed up, Babe. I'm sorry."

I shut my eyes and say nothing.

"Babe?"

"Are you done?" I ask.

Ranger's blank face appears. He nods.

"Okay, then." I get in the car and drive off.

--

* * *

A few days later, after I'm done doing a little Christmas shopping, I get a phone call from my editor.

"Stephanie," he says.

"Hey, Paul." I tell him. "What's up? Is something wrong with this week's column?" He never calls so I have a reason to be a little jumpy.

"No, it's great." He says. "But I wanted to give you some news. An early Christmas gift, kind of."

"Oh?" I say.

"I got a call earlier from Serena Goldbloom… the features editor of Stylish Life magazine."

My eyes widen. I subscribe to Stylish Life. It's a women's magazine that focuses on interesting features, fashion, fun, women's health and pampering. I _love_ stylish life. "Oh my gosh!" I tell him. "And?"

He laughs. "And they want to meet with you. They like your style, heard you were shopping around for more work and they wanted to know if you would write some features for them."

"Yes!" I scream into the phone. Alex moves around in his crib. "Oops," I whisper. "That's amazing!"

"They want you to go down to Miami and meet with them. That's where their offices are. I told them I didn't want to lose you but they said you could write the articles from here and conference in for meetings. They're impressed with your following, which has grown by 30% in the last four months alone."

I can't speak.

"Stephanie? Are you there?"

I'm in shock, "I can't believe this. When, when do they want me to go?"

"Soon. She said this week would be best. Can you make it?"

"After my last class on Thursday then yes. Can I bring the boys? I don't want to leave them."

He pauses. "I don't know about that. Here, let me give you the number. She said for you to call her back as soon as you could." He gives me the number and I thank him.

When I hang up, I do a little happy dance and immediately call the number. Serena's secretary picks up and after a few seconds of waiting, she patches me through. "Stephanie?" She says.

"Yes. Hi. My editor told me you called."

"I did. Did he tell you the details?"

"Yes," I tell her. "He said you wanted me to write some features articles?"

She spends a minute explaining the job to me. "We really like your style of writing and your unique, biting sarcasm on subject. You have a very decent following for being on such a small paper. We would like your articles to center around certain topics each month, so they'll be a little more in depth than the ones you do now but I'd like for you to bring your personality to our magazine. Would you be interested in coming to Miami to meet with us?"

"Absolutely, I've been looking for an excuse the get out of the cold up here. Only, I have twin baby boys and I would rather not leave them."

"Well, if you'd like to bring them with you, you can. We have a small staff-only day care center right next to our private gym. You could place them there while you're being interviewed."

I beam. "Sounds great!"

"Super! I'm going to have my secretary book you a flight and make sure your boys can come along. I'll have her call you tomorrow with the details."

"Alright."

"Thanks, Stephanie. Bye."

"Bye."

I'm jubilant when I hang up the phone. I almost want to wake the boys up and tell them the good news, but I don't. Instead I call Emily and tell her. She's ecstatic and agrees that this is the perfect time for me to take that long awaited vacation. We conference call Celia and stay on the phone gabbing about outfits and what is 'business appropriate' in the hot climate of Miami and how I should dress. Celia insists on an impromptu shopping trip. Sometimes it's so much fun to be a girl.

I'm going to Miami!

--

* * *

**Thanks to everyone for the great feedback. I put some pictures up that inspired me in the story, just Steph's house and stuff like that. Check it out; link is in my profile. Another chapter going up either tonight or early tomorrow morning :)**


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**

Serena's secretary calls me the next morning and has already booked my flight for Thursday after my class and I'll have an interview on Friday. I'm so excited about it, even though I'm a little worried about how the boys will behave on a flight.

"Don't worry about it," Celia says to me as we're on a shopping trip in the early evening on Tuesday, two days before I'm supposed to take off. I hardly have time to get everything done that I need to, so how I manage to find time to shop is a miracle. I figure I can sleep on my vacation. "It's only a two hour flight," she continues, "if you tire them out before you get on the plane, they'll sleep the entire way there."

I nod, "Good plan." As we scan the mall we're in, there are no stores that look like they'll sell a bathing suit and the only suit I currently have is the one that's a bit raggedy. I haven't worn a bathing suit in _way_ too long, having had no time in a couple years, to go to the beach. "Where did you say I could find summer-type clothes?" I ask Celia.

Emily looks around, too, bewildered. "I hate to break it to you, but it doesn't look like you'll find anything here. This time of year, I doubt there's any place up north that'll sell anything short-sleeved, let alone a bathing suit."

Celia shakes her head. "Follow me." We're at an outlet mall about half an hour away from where we live. Celia assured me that I'd find what I was looking for here. Sure enough, we walk towards a shop that is all about swimwear. "Here we go. After you, ladies," she says, holding the door open for us.

I try on a couple, and end up deciding on one bathing suit for me and cute baby shorts for the boys before we move to another store where I can find more business-appropriate things. We all try on different things and model them for each other. Both Celia and Emily shake their head at my more casual choices, stating that Stylish Life is a big-time magazine and I have to dress accordingly. They veto basically everything I try on and result to picking things out for me.

"I hate pencil skirts." I'm saying to Celia.

"Pencil skirts are a business woman's staple clothing items." She says, "Besides—," her phone buzzes, interrupting her. "Oh, hang on." She checks the caller ID and walks off to answer the call.

I frown at Emily. "I'm not doing a pencil skirt with a suit jacket. It's just not me. Look at this thing, it's so boring." I stare in the mirror, bored with the grey suit I'm wearing.

Emily grimaces, "I agree. You don't want to look boring. How about you pick out something you're comfortable with and we tweak it to make it appropriate? Go pick something out that you would wear."

I shrug and head back into the fitting room, going for something black and a lot less dressy. For some reason, working at RangeMan has made me so accustomed to wearing black clothes that I hardly buy anything else. I think I just figured out why Ranger only wears black: it's just easier. I come back out. "This is fine."

Emily nods, "A little too casual with the pants. Try these high wasted ones. Or, actually, there's a matching blazer to those. And, for goodness sake, you're not going to a funeral; add a little color." Clearly Emily has never worked at RangeMan. I put on the blazer she hands me and adjust it. "Not bad. You may need a tie," Emily says.

"A tie? I'm not a man."

"Honey, you're going to write for Stylish Life, so it wouldn't hurt for you to dress as though you read it. Women wear ties sometimes, too."

I roll my eyes, "Yeah, Avril Lavigne. And excuse me, but I've never seen you with a Stylish Life magazine in your hand. I doubt they have fashion sections in _Psychology Today_ magazine. Unless I'm wrong? Maybe they have the latest in strait jackets."

Emily laughs, "Just try on the tie!"

I put it on and turn to Celia, who is still on the phone. "Hey? Quick question: tie or no tie?"

Celia, who is still on the phone, turns to me and nods at the tie, mumbling something rapidly in Spanish into the phone. Emily and I debate over outfits for another minute while she gets off the phone. "Sorry," she says when she's off. "I swear, I'm the only sane person in my family."

"Was that your husband?" I ask.

Celia hesitates. "No. My brother," she says and Emily and I both stop and look at her. "He doesn't know where I am, don't worry. Only, I've been trying to get him to make an appearance at my parent's house for a while now and have taken to leaving messages all the time. And, of course, now he knows I'm in your class and takes to asking me about you after I see you."

I scrunch up my face, "I'm sorry, Celia. I didn't want you to be in the middle of this whole thing."

She waves me off. "Don't worry about it. You think this is the first time I've had to deal with him? Please," she says. "I've had to set him straight a hundred times when he was growing up and I'll bet I'll have to do it a hundred times more. That's just the way it works with younger siblings. Relax, he won't be making any idiotic moves. At least not ones involving you or the twins."

I nod, my nerves a little jittery.

In the end, I decide on buying a cute, black, very fitted blazer with sophisticate detailing and a brighter shirt to go under it. I buy the matching pants, since they're fitted. No tie. I have shoes at home so I can't justify spending another cent on anything else until I have a better income.

After shopping, Celia heads home and Emily and I head back to my place where my mother is watching all three kids. They're all asleep by the time we get there and Emily carefully puts Maggie into her car seat and heads out, followed by my mother. When I'm alone, I tuck the boys in and start packing for Miami, trying not to think about Ranger and what he's up to.

My thoughts stray to what Emily said before about PTSD, though Ranger's been on a quite a few missions before and he's never shown any signs of it. I'm sure that whatever happened this time couldn't have been that bad, especially since his woman was there—Lisa. From the way she acted around him when she was here two years ago and from what I heard in his office, I'm pretty sure they were more than 'partners' while they were off wherever they were.

The thought makes my skin crawl.

You see, it wouldn't have hurt so bad had Ranger not have _just_ told me that he would like to give us a chance. He went on about not losing me and loving me… I was blind-sighted by the whole thing with Lisa, completely. Sure, had Ranger and I not slept together and had he not said those things, I still would have been jealous about Lisa when she showed up acting like she owned him, but I would have gotten over it: Ranger had never been mine. In the time that we'd known each other, I'd had many on-and-off stances with Joe Morelli so I'd be a hypocrite if I were to say it bothered me.

But he _told_ me—

I squeeze my eyes shut and slam the half-empty suitcase. It's time for me to think about something else. _Anything_ else.

--

* * *

So on Thursday, I get up extra early and pack a small suitcase for myself and the boys for three nights in Miami. I'm so excited to go to the beach and to be in the warm weather. I love Christmas time, but there is no comparison to the beach. Especially the warm and beautiful Miami Beach.

I'm running late for class and everyone is already there by the time I arrive. "Sorry, everyone," I say as I walk into the room and plop my bulging messenger bag onto the desk in the front. "I know I'm late. And now that we're finally done reading this novel I have to apologize for making you read such a depressing book so close to Christmas time." Some of the students' chuckle. "Let's jump right into it, shall we? What did you guys think of the conclusion to _Feast of the Goat_? Anyone?" I pick on one student with his hand raised and listen to his answer as I hand out the roll sheet.

"Very disturbing," Matt, the one I called on, answers, "Suffice to say the guy was a total perv."

I nod as I pull out my book. "True. The dictator had a lot of faults. Anyone else?" I look around the room, about to call on another student when I see them.

Celia is sitting right next to Ranger.

Ranger is here.

Our eyes meet and I freeze. A million thoughts run through my head. _Call someone! Yell at him! Kick him out! _A mixture of cold rage and shock pierces my insides like a sharp icicle.

_But hang on,_ I think. I can't, I'm in a classroom full of people. _What the hell is he doing here?_

I shift my eyes away from his and clear my throat, barely noticing Celia mouthing something to me in my peripheral vision. "Okay, Ben. Thoughts?" I keep my eyes on the guy giving his answer, though my heart rate is struggling to get back to a normal level. _Did Celia… no, she wouldn't… why is he here? _I repeat to myself. I'm thinking of the boys and thanking my lucky stars that they're at my parent's house where I'm going to meet my dad before he drives the three of us to the airport. Thank goodness I didn't bring them today.

Ben continues to talk and when he's done, I look to the margins in my own book and force my mind back to the current topic. "Let's discuss the themes in the book. There are four, and I'm hoping you guys are thinking broadly enough that you'll be able to identify them on your own."

A few hands rise, including Celia's but I can't look in that direction at the moment so another of her classmates is called upon. "… the comparison between the power of the corrupt government and the corrupt moralities of the people serving them," the student is saying.

_Pay attention to the rest of the class, Stephanie,_ I tell myself silently and force myself to listen. "Good. Can you give some examples of that?" My student does so as I write 'Political' on the board and underline it. At this point, there is nothing I can do; Ranger isn't the type to leave because I tell him so, he'd never listen to me. Plus if I pay attention to him, I'd be playing into his game. All I can do is try to get away from him after class but in the mean time, ignoring him is the best option. So I throw myself into my work.

As the student finishes talking, I write a bullet point or two on the board and move on. "Excellent, that's one out of four. Three more to go, people." The result is a lively class discussion on the remaining themes, of which they identify two more on their own. With everyone participating so, it makes it easier to calm myself and after only half an hour of easy debating with the class, I feel myself feeling somewhat normal. We talk back and forth for a while before I decide to throw the class a bone.

"Now, I'm not going to give away the answer, but this _will_ be on your final exam. You'll want to take notes. "I pause briefly as the fluttering sounds of zippers and paper fill the room. "The fourth theme centers around pride. Don't you guys think that there is a direct connection between the dictator's personal gluttonies and the fall of his regime?" No one speaks for a while as they contemplate my words. "The author describes in detail the extent of the dictator's ego, from public humiliation of his enemies to sexual conquests over the women belonging to those who claimed to be loyal to him." I go on as the students take notes and randomly ask questions.

It seems to be minutes until I look at the time and realize class is over. "Okay, that's it for today." Another round of zipper sounds and the closing of books. "Thanks for everyone's request to join my pop literature class next semester. I promise I've tried to sneak each and every person in but the University is cracking down on class sizes so I really can't take any more." There are a vast number of groans, which makes me smile. I'm flattered that people want to be in my class. "Keep checking in and I'll let you know if anyone drops it."

I pack my things at the same time they do, hoping to leave as soon as I can, but a few students stop to talk to me, making me stay. One of them is Celia… followed closely by Ranger. "I didn't want him to come, it's not my fault." She says to me before turning, frowning at her brother and saying something in rapid Spanish, then leaving.

And now, much to my dismay, it's Ranger and I alone in the room. I put my bag on my shoulder but he speaks before I can leave. "You're good at this, Babe. I never took you for the teaching kind, Miss Plum."

"It's _Professor_," I say with a dark look. "What are you doing here?"

"I came to see you. I can't believe you made this book interesting. I hated it when I was in college."

I nod and begin walking out. "Good to know. See ya." But he walks with me. Honestly, I feel like a child with a dog who won't leave her alone. "What do you want, Ranger?"

"To apologize. To try this again. To meet my sons. But more importantly, at least right now, is that there are some things I want to talk to you about. I thought since we were in public, it would be alright."

"It's not. It'll _never_ be alright. What the hell makes you think I'd feel comfortable letting you anywhere near them? What makes you think _I'm_ comfortable around you myself?"

"I'd never hurt them." He says seriously. "You know that."

I glare at him. "Right. And I'm supposed to believe that why? What's to stop you from sending evil doctors to see them again?"

Ranger's response is biting and angry. "That man is _never_ coming near them—."

"Damn straight he isn't. And neither are you." I cut him off. "See, Ranger, once again you're doing what you want regardless of what's best for the kids. My job is to make sure the boys are safe and happy. I'm not comfortable with you being anywhere near them and as their mother, I get to make that call."

"I get it, Babe. Can we talk?"

"Now isn't a good time, I'm in a hurry."

Ranger closes his eyes briefly. "I'm never going to stop wanting to get to know my sons. We have to figure this out, you can't wish it away."

"I'm sure you'll get bored of it eventually," I say, "That seems to be your M.O."

His voice is rough as he answers. "Not going to happen." As we reach my car he takes a deep breath. "Babe, please." He puts a gentle hand on my arm. "I overreacted in calling the law firm, I'll admit, but I never would've gone through with it. No one regrets that more than me. They were only supposed to call you and scare you a bit. It was stupid. I was angry and not thinking clearly."

I look up at him in confusion. "What do you have to be angry about? _I'm_ the one who got screwed over, remember?"

"I know," he pulls me closer to him. "That's a long story which I'll get into later if you want."

"I don't." I say, taking a step back from him. "I really have to go."

"We _really_ have to talk."

"When I get back, we'll go to a restaurant."

"Going out of town?" He asks, stepping closer to me again. I can smell the Bulgari and its throwing me a little.

"Yes."

"With the twins?"

"Yes." I say again.

He keeps our distance close, "Can we talk soon? There's a lot I have to tell you. I should've called you back when I got back into the States. Had I known what you were going to tell—,"

I cut him off, "I know exactly what you thought I was going to say. You thought I was still pining after you, that I was calling to beg you to choose me over her." I shake my head in humiliation, "Was I always so pathetic around you?"

Ranger grabs my shoulders and looks me right in the eye. "That word could never be used to describe you. And I didn't think you were going to say that. If I did, I would've called you back in a heartbeat."

I scoff. "Right. I forgot that you enjoy torturing me."

His flinch is barely noticeable. "No. I thought you were calling to scream at me for being an asshole."

"No need. I figured you got the message when I shot out your tires."

He cracks a grin. "Yeah, I deserved that."

"You _deserve_ a lot worse."

He ignores me. "Where are you off to?"

I look at him for a long time before answering. "Miami."

His eyebrows shoot up. "Business or pleasure?"

"None of _your_ business."

"When will you be back?"

"Sunday. We can meet up on Monday."

"With the boys." He says.

I shake my head. "No way."

Now he is starting to look angry. "I have rights, too, Stephanie. I won't quit trying to know my sons either." He pauses, waiting for my nostrils to stop flaring. "Stephanie, please be reasonable. You can't raise them on your own. You'll need financial support."

"No, I don't." I snap at him. "I'm doing just fine if you haven't noticed."

"Schools, medical insurance and a ton of other things I can't think of right now, they all cost money."

"I've got it covered."

He looks at me calmly. "You bought a house on your own."

"Yes."

He looks like he wants to smile but only manages to look a little sad. "I'd tell you I was proud of you but you seem too angry to really care right now."

I give him no response as I stare at him.

"Financially, you don't completely have it covered," he says, using his damn ESP again. "That would be impossible. And, regardless, they need a father, Babe."

I close my eyes for fear I might cry. I've been through this argument in my head so many times; the risks of two boys growing up without a dad… "They have able male role models in their lives. My dad is around and Lester and some of the guys come play with them when they can. I…" I pause, searching for the right words, "Maybe in the future, when they're old enough they might want to go looking for you and I'll tell them the truth. I'll let them know it was _my_ decision to keep you out of their lives. I'd rather they be angry with me for a while than be missing you their entire lives and turn out screwed up because of it."

He doesn't say anything for a full minute, playing my words over in his head.

"Are you going back to DC or wherever?" I ask, a little too hopefully.

"No. I'm not planning on it."

I shake my head. "I have to go. Don't follow me."

--


	9. Chapter 9

**Get ready, folks. This is a long one.**

**--**

**

* * *

  
**

**Chapter 9**

A couple hours later, the boys and I are off to Miami. As per my instructions, my mom and grandmother didn't let the boys sleep much so they doze off the minute they're on the plane. I'm so excited to show my boys a real beach, not the dirty Jersey Shore beaches. I think they're excited, too, because the minute we arrived at the hotel, they wake up.

"Do you smell the ocean, guys?" I coo at them while they're still in their strollers.

I'm meeting with the Stylish Life magazine people tomorrow so I have the rest of the day to be at the beach. It's a little late, but there is still at least an hour of sun left and I think I'll take advantage. They put me up in an awesome hotel room for three nights, which is amazing. The room is incredible and already has two cribs set up inside. Everything is white and light beige, the curtains to the balcony outside is white, and there is so much light in the room, you'd think I was on the sun.

I feel like all my worries and troubles are a million miles away.

As I step outside on the balcony, the first thing I see is the blue-green ocean. It's perfect. I pick the boys up out of their strollers and take them on to the large balcony. "Do you see that, guys? It's the ocean. It's pretty here, isn't it?"

They squint a little in the sunlight and bounce around in my arms.

When the bellhop finishes bringing in my stuff, I tip him and he leaves. I can't wait anymore to go outside and I know the boys must be tired of being cooped up in a plane and then in the rental car, so I put on their special swim diapers (not that I'm going to let them in the ocean, but they look so cute in them) and then I put my own bathing suit on. Now, I know I've given birth to two children but I really am grateful for those Hungarian genes. I work out a bit, since its required for all RangeMan employees and Tank says he won't let me moonlight light for them if I don't (this is all way before Ranger came back, of course), and running after the boys is also a work out in itself. Did you know that holding two babies in your arms for hours at a time is the best arm exercise ever? Also, I'd been careful to eat healthy while pregnant and breast feeding… my kids were bound to get screwed enough with a mother like me; I had figured I'd at least better eat right and give them the nutrition they needed. Nowadays, thanks to my schedule, I never have time to eat which doesn't seem good, but hey, at least I fit into a two piece. Thankfully all the baby weight is gone and as an added bonus, my breasts are a tiny bit bigger since I got pregnant. Score! So I feel no shame in wearing a white halter bikini. I put on my sunglasses and pack my beach bag with the beach toys I brought for the boys, baby sun-block, sun tan lotion for me, and some sunglasses for me and the boys. Then we head out.

The hotel staff is very accommodating and they set up an umbrella and a lounge chair on the beach for me as I hold onto the boys. They even bring out a couple of towels and set them beside us.

"Come on, guys," I say as I spread a large towel under the umbrella for us. "It's time for your first sand experience! Yay!"

They clap happily.

I put strong sun-block on their soft baby skin and give them their beach toys. Alex immediately starts filling his little bucket with sand, while Tove is more excited about trying to catch all the sand in his hands and then babbling in excitement as it pours out of his tiny fist. I can't help but laugh at his antics.

Now, the boys hardly talk except to say "mama," a word they learned just the other day, much to my excitement. Alex's first word was "Tove", as you remember. Tove's first word was "truck" (but the way he says it, it sounds like "chuck"), though I think I may also have heard Alex say that the other day. They both know the word "no" and now Tove also says "Leksh" which I think is short for "Alex". I try to watch what I say around them nowadays since they pick up stuff really quickly.

For a while I sit there with them, helping Alex build a sand castle. "See, Alex, it stays up when you do this." I pour some of my water bottle out to wet the sand and build a model for him. He bangs his little shovel down in excitement. "Here, let me help you."

We build one, get it to stand and Alex gurgles happily and points to it. But then Tove knocks it over.

"Tove!" I scold. "That's not very nice, your brother worked really hard on that."

But it's no use, Alex is laughing along at the destruction his brother has wreaked on his work of art. He shovels more sand into the bucket, with Tove's help this time and gestures to me so I can help him turn it around. I do so and they both knock it down immediately while laughing.

"You guys are nuts." I say with a laugh. I take a few pictures of them while they play, then sit back against the lounge chair.

I keep an eye on them as I calmly listen to the ocean. When they get tired, I hold them both in my arms and rock them to sleep while leaning back on the arm chair. When the sun starts to set I take off my glasses and people watch. There aren't many people on this beach. The only people that catch my attention are a lovey-dovey old couple holding each other in the distance, some kids playing volleyball in swimwear and a man and a little girl walking side by side along the water's edge with a hyper little dog running around their feet.

Everything seems so calm here. So beautiful and calm.

The boys sleep against me and I cover them up with a towel. When I begin to get tired, I sit up carefully and gently pick up the boys. Tove makes a bit of a fuss but I manage to get all their toys and our stuff packed into my beach bag as I carry them towards the hotel. One of the hotel workers offers to help me with my bags, but I tell him I've got it.

It's when I'm at the elevator that I hear a voice that almost makes me drop my sons.

"Hello, Babe."

I freeze. It's Ranger. I don't turn around but he does come in front of me. He's staring at the two little bundles in my arms and alternately looking at me. To say that I'm anxious would be an understatement.

_Fuck. There goes my vacation._ "What are you doing here?" _My God, all I want is ONE weekend to relax! Is that too much to ask? _Something in my head tells me I shouldn't as jumpy about the idea of Ranger near the boys as I am, but ever since that damn day with the so-called 'doctor', I get nervous with them around him, or anyone I'm uncomfortable with, for that matter. Emily's words jump into my head and I remember that it's something I've got to work on or I'll pass on my paranoia to the twins.

He ignores my question. "I came to visit Julie and looked you up."

"_One_ weekend. Seriously?! You couldn't give me _one_ weekend of peace?!"

Ranger blinks. "Are you on vacation?"

"Can't think of any reason why that should matter to you." I say without missing a beat. _On the other hand,_ I think in my head, going back to my internal debate,_ you have reason to be on edge._

He gestures with his eyes at the beach towel covered bundles on my arms. "Is that them under there?"

"No." I say sarcastically, "These are rentals. I borrowed them from the hotel." The elevator dings and opens. "Well, it was nice running into you; we must do it again some time. Bye now." I step into the elevator.

But he stops me. "Stop, Stephanie."

"If you don't get away from me and my boys I'm going to scream bloody murder."

Ranger glares. "Don't you think it's enough of this game? We're going to talk about this. And we're going to do it now." He steps into the elevator with me.

But I step right back out, backing away from him while trying to fish out my cell phone. "I haven't put a restraining order against you yet because I was asked not to by Tank and Lester. They seem to have a false idea that you wouldn't hurt us. _I_ think otherwise." I'm still backing away. "You don't get to come in here and bark out orders. You have no right."

Ranger's anger turns to shame and he sighs, squeezing his eyes shut. "You're right," he says after a pause, "You're right, I'm just... not used to hearing the word 'no'. I'm sorry. But I'd like to discuss this in private. Please? We have so much to talk about. There's so much I have to tell you. Just hear me out." I'm shaking my head very slowly but he continues. "I swear on my life, Stephanie, I'll never hurt you or them, nor will I let anyone else hurt you three either."

I stare at him. For a long time. There's that weariness in his eyes again, something deep troubling him. A despondency that has been with him since he got back and I suddenly remember Emily's thoughts about PTSD…

I don't know exactly why, but I cave and step back into the elevator. "10th floor." I tell him and he hits the corresponding button. I shift a little under the weight of the beach bag and the twins. Ranger reaches towards me and I lean back, away from him, shielding my sons. "I've got them."

"I was going to offer to carry the bag."

I ignore him until the elevator arrives at my floor. He follows me to my door and watches me struggle with the key. When I fish it out, he takes it from me and opens the door himself, holding it open for me.

Carefully, I put each twin in a crib and tuck him in, stretching my arms when they're both down.

"What are you really doing here?" I ask him in hushed tones as I massage my own shoulders.

"I followed you." He admits easily. "I wasn't going to but then I thought, why not? I couldn't sleep… there are things I wanted to talk to you about. I'm not sure…" He pauses. "Did you know you were pregnant before I left? Why didn't you tell me?"

"Don't you dare blame me, I tried to do right by you and your own 'I-am-an-island' crap makes it impossible for me to do so. Every single time I try, I'm the one that gets left throbbing and beaten! I try to be your friend, I get thrashed. I try to be there for you when you're clearly in need of some comfort, I get thrashed. I try to tell you when you have kids to let you know you're off the hook when it comes to the whole daddy thing and again I get thrashed." I shut my eyes tightly and battle the emotional exhaustion, "I'm so sick of it, Ranger, and I don't have the will or the energy to keep at it anymore."

Ranger closes his eyes briefly and sighs. For a terrible moment I think he's going to argue. But he doesn't. "You're right. I wasn't accusing you, Babe. I haven't exactly been fair—,"

"Yes, you have." I hastily whisper, "You've been more than fair. You've been there for me when I needed you—well, in the _distant_ past, and you've taken care of me, all the while making it very clear that I was to keep an emotional distance from you."

He frowns, "Babe, at the time I did that to make sure you didn't get hurt."

I roll my eyes. "Sure. You were wrong, though, I couldn't be detached when it came to you. I loved you. In whatever fucked up way, I did. And when you told me you would give us a shot, I _believed_ you…" I stare him straight in the eyes. "God, I was such an idiot. But I'm done with that now." I say with determination so that he has no doubt that I'm serious.

I see a spasm of something I don't recognize cross his lovely face. "Stephanie…"

"Don't. If you hadn't found out about the boys, you would never have given me a second thought in your life."

He argues. "Not true."

"It's absolutely the truth. I would have been one of the probably hundreds of other women you filed under 'entertainment'. Or are you just with one woman now? That was the deal, wasn't it? You had to make sure I was out of the way before you entered into a commitment with her. Hell, you probably wouldn't have even known about the twins until they were in college or something. Why can't you pretend you hadn't seen me? That way you can go back to forgetting me and I can go back to forgetting you."

"No." He says resolutely as he stalks towards me. "I've told you a million times that I love you." He takes my shoulders in his hands and shakes me once. "I never told you why I left Trenton in the first place. When I left the last time, Lisa and I and our team were under enormous pressure to bring …" he struggles not to tell me too much information, "… some suspects in. This was bad, Babe. _Deadly_ bad. I hadn't planned on ever going back once my contract was up, but my team came and asked for my help. How could I not? I couldn't say no, not when they are all putting their lives on the line like that."

I scoff. There really are no words for me right now. This whole thing is a joke.

Ranger heeds my body language, "The thing with Lisa was… different. I admit, that wasn't… right. I have to explain something to you, Steph—"

I shut my eyes and break away from him, putting distance between us, "I really don't want to hear this."

"Well, I'm telling you anyway."

"But I don't care," I say through gritted teeth, trying hard to keep my voice down so as not to wake the twins. "I don't care if you fucked her brains out for two years in some third world country. _You_ are no longer my concern."

Ranger sighs and shuts his eyes. "It just ended, Steph, the nightmare is finally over. The debriefing, the trails… it all just ended."

"That seems awfully convenient. Just _now?_" I ask doubtfully.

He hesitates. "It's been four months."

"Four months?! And you couldn't pick up the damn phone and call me back in four months?! I left you, like a_ million_ messages."

He sighs. "I thought you wanted—,"

"Oh, I know what you thought. You thought I was in love with you and I wanted you to come back and I was going to beg you to love me, like some lovesick…" I trail off, feeling humiliated at my behavior with him. Humiliated that I believed all his lies.

I step further away from him, suddenly sick to my stomach. I feel sad for the twins because their father is an asshole, and angry at myself for still having feelings for him. I feel disgusted by my previous attachment to him and how it all went down. It's just … sick.

"I thought I'd slowly work myself back into your life…" he says, determination dripping from his tone, "when enough time had passed for me to forget what happened when I was away… you don't know… some of the things… it was just ugly. There is still so much you don't know; about my job and about what happened with us—"

"There is no 'us'."

He takes a step towards me, "It's true, after that night, I had second thoughts about you and me. Don't get me wrong, I meant everything I said—,"

"The hell you did," I mutter.

He continues as though I hadn't interrupted, "I wasn't sure that it was the right time… that I was ready… that it was _safe._ I didn't want it to go down the way it did but there is still so much left unexplained. You think you have it straight but you don't, Stephanie." He shakes his head and balls his hands into fists. "My contract is up but I wanted enough time to pass… I don't know, maybe I was unsure about us after everything."

"_That_ has been clear since the beginning."

"You have to understand that I'm not used to doubting my instincts. I usually have a plan and have a pretty good idea about how things are going to pan out. With you… suddenly I wasn't. You got into that accident and almost died and all that kept running through my head was that I'd never get to see you roll your eyes again. I froze, Steph. For the first time in years, I was unable to do my job. The relief that came when I found out you were alright is unexplainable. Then after that night with you, the mission came up and—,"

"Stop. I don't want to know. I don't _care_ to know."

We're silent for a long while, listening to the sound of the boys as they sleep. I'm angry as hell, forcing myself not to look at him, but as he talks about his work he looks haunted… a bit of that drained look comes back into his face and I'm once again struggling with emotions.

"My instincts are telling me to ask you if you're alright, against all odds…" I tell him, scoffing again at the insanity that are my feelings for him. "Un-fucking-believable."

When Ranger looks up at me, even though his face is as stoic as ever, his eyes are almost longing, imploring me to do what I so desperately want to.

But instead I stay put. "I'm not going to listen to them. They only seem to get me trouble these days," I say angrily.

He shakes his head. "Babe… please…"

I look away from him, lest those two words break my resolution. He steps closer; against my better judgment, I _let_ him come closer. When he's less than a foot away, I let him reach out and pull me in. He wraps me in his arms and squeezes me; he runs his hands up and down my back and sides in an almost desperate attempt, it seems, to prove that I'm really there. _Don't, Stephanie_, I tell myself. But as his face burrows into my hair, I can't help it anymore; I put my arms around him, too.

I hold on to him, letting myself get lost in him just for one short moment. Being in his arms takes me back. It's comfortable and familiar and lovely. I hold onto him, wanting to take away that pained look in his eyes. Wanting him to take away my pain.

The short moment extends and we stand like that for a long while.

Eventually, I pull away, coming back to my sense. "Are you alright?" I ask as dutifully as I can as I back up to put space between us.

He nods, still half holding me. "I'm fine." He continues to look at me and it's impossible to interpret what's running through his mind, though the strange intensity of his gaze makes me infinitely uncomfortable. After a few moments he looks over at the cribs, "So twins, huh?"

I nod. "Ranger, I don't want to get into an argument with you, but I meant what I said before, about the boys. You really are under no obligations here."

"I'm their father." He says simply.

"But you've made your stance on relationships crystal clear in the past."

He stares at me, "I told you, it doesn't change the fact that I'm their father."

"No." I maintain. "It takes more than donating sperm to be a father."

Ranger's mouth is tight. "I'm _not_ a fucking sperm donor." I don't say anything. "The responsible thing to do would be to get married," he says once he's back under control.

"Are you insane? I don't want to _get_ married again anymore than you want to _be_ married."

He rolls his eyes. "It would for the best. That way you would have financial support always. We _both_ have to consider the best solution for the problem—,"

My hands automatically roll into fists and the inner grizzly momma takes over… I think I even growl at him.

Ranger back tracks. For the first time ever, he looks a little in shock… I'd even go so far as to call it mild fright. "Whoa, Steph, relax. I didn't mean that the way it sounded."

"Let me make one thing clear." I say in a low, deadly tone. For some strange reason the "problem" word sends me into a fury. I think it's just how negative it sounds that way, but either way, my grizzly-momma-impulse comes out in a flash, "Those kids in there are no one's _problem._ Don't _ever_ make the mistake of referring to my boys as a fucking _problem. _They are sweet and innocent and amazing and they don't deserve to have _you_ screwing with their lives. If you think I'm going to let you come in here and mess with them the way you _love _to mess with me, you are seriously mistaken." I'm so angry that I'm shaking. Whatever calm I had before is gone. "I suggest you leave and make sure to stay the hell away from us before I push you off the balcony."

Ranger has his hands up, showing me his palms. "Babe… you need to calm down. I'm not here to mess with anyone. I just want them taken care of."

"They already are."

"And I want… I think I want to know them."

"You _think_ you want to know them? Oh sure, let me just sign over the custody rights to you then."

Ranger stays calm. "I can't not know my own sons."

"You also can't up and leave every time it's convenient for you. They're not toys."

"I wouldn't do that."

"You've done it before."

"Do you think I _wanted_ to leave you and go to that hell hole?!" He demands. The yelling wakes up one of the babies.

Shooting a quick glare at Ranger, I run over to Tove, who is the one suddenly crying, and pick him up. "Sshh, it's alright, buddy." I kiss his cheek as he cries and squeeze him tightly to me. "I'm sorry we woke you." I whisper to him as I check on his brother, putting a soft hand briefly on his tummy. Alex can sleep through anything… a trait he gets from his mom. I pick up Tove's blanket and drape it around him while I carry him out to the balcony where the sky is making its transition from the purples of the setting sun to darkening hues of blue over the ocean. He's still crying a little bit so I rock him gently. "Sshh," I say in soothing tones as I rub his back.

Still sniffling, Tove rests his head on my shoulder. He's still making fussy baby noises and I realize he doesn't have his pacifier. I quickly step back into the room, where Ranger is standing over Alex's crib, watching him as he sleeps. I search Tove's empty crib for his pacifier but it isn't there. I look around the room for it but Ranger spots it before I do. "Looking for this?" He picks up a blue pacifier from on top of the dresser and holds it out to Tove.

Tove lifts his head up a little to investigate this stranger. He looks a little doubtful at first but eventually picks the pacifier up from Ranger's open hand, never taking his eyes off his father's. I take the pacifier gently from him and put it in his mouth while he stares at Ranger. "Thanks." I mumble to Ranger as I take Tove back out onto the balcony.

"Tove, do you hear that?" I whisper to him, "It's the ocean. That's where all the fish live. Do you remember the fish from your ocean book?" I say referring to one of the many books we have at home. "This is where they live, but really far out."

As if he understands me, Tove extends an arm out and points a chubby little finger to the ocean in front of us. "That's right!" I say happily, "Out there. That's where the sharks and whales and dolphins live."

Tove stares out at the ocean and once again rests his head against my shoulder. A small calm takes over as I hold my son, blocking out the rest of the world as I feel the warmth of his little body. I rub his back and hum to him softly as his eyes start closing. Here, holding on to Tove and listening to the ocean, I'm once again reminded of why I fight so hard. It's all worth it. To keep them safe like this I'd wrestled a lion. In a few soothing minutes he's back asleep.

I turn to go back into the room and notice that Ranger has come out onto the balcony. He's staring at us with an unreadable expression on his face. I walk past him and back into the room where I gently put Tove back in his crib.

"I don't think this is the best place to have this conversation." I say to him and he gestures for me to come out onto the balcony. I do, and I stay at the other end of it.

Ranger sighs. "If you don't want to get married, I can deal with that, but I'm setting up a trust fund for the boys and I'm sending you money, too. I also want them to have my last name."

I shake my head. "Forget it."

"It makes the paper work easier later on."

"I'm not changing their name."

"You'd be giving them their father's last name, that isn't unheard of."

I roll my eyes. "It takes more than flinging money around and making demands to be a father."

He doesn't flinch but I can see I've hit a nerve. "Stephanie, I have rights, too." He says for the umpteenth time.

In my head, I know that he's right. He does have some rights, but what if he claims those rights now and later denies the consequences that come with them? How am I supposed to take that risk? "Here you are claiming to be a parent when you know nothing about them. You want to change their last name? You barely know their first names! I'm not blaming you but I'm not going to let my boys grow up with daddy issues because you decide it's okay for you to waltz in and out of their lives whenever you want to. No. That's all there is to it."

His hands are balled up into fists at his side. "I want to get to know them."

I sigh, putting my head in my hands as I sit on one of the chairs in the balcony. I spend a long time looking at the ocean, thinking. Before I know it, I'm shivering and Ranger is pulling me up next to him and rubbing both his arms against me to warm me with friction. "This is a serious issue." I say, standing up and stepping away from him.

I don't watch his response to my actions. "I know it." He says.

My eyes close and I lean on the balcony, exhausted. "Well, you're fighting valiantly for them. That definitely counts for something."

He nods. "I'm never going to stop."

There is a long silence before I speak. "I want to do what's best for the boys. I don't know what the right answer here is."

"I don't think there is a right and wrong answer. How about we just take small steps? We'll start slow."

"Slow how?"

He thinks for a second. "I'd like to get to know them. Then, slowly, I'd like to become a constant figure in their lives."

I frown. "You and 'constant' don't go together in a sentence."

"I told you, my government contract is up. I'm not going to renew it."

"Yeah, but you just said it was up before, too." I point out and Ranger has the decency to look a bit shameful. I sit on the chair beside his, keeping to myself. "Besides, you can't do that. You can't force yourself not to do something you want to do. Imagine what would happen if you were forced to stick around: you're not bred for captivity, Ranger, you'd be miserable. By association, so would the twins and me. It doesn't work that way."

He shakes his head. "I wasn't going to renew it anyway. I'm done with the army and I have other things I want to do. RangeMan is doing really well and that requires more of my attention. I'm tired of missions and the ugliness of it all… tired of seeing humanity at its worst. You should see the guys who have been doing this for more than 20 years… jaded with hardly a hope of regaining what they've lost. I don't want that to be me. Especially now that I have kids that I can't bear to have not know me. Or worse, to know me as mercenary more than a man." He's silent for a few seconds and we stare out at the ocean. His words repeat in my mind and my heart feels a little heavier. He continues before I can untangle the web of emotions in swirling around in the pit of my stomach. "Besides," he says, "you're all I thought about when I was gone." The last sentence throws me. He's not looking at me, but staring straight ahead with a sad calm about him. "I love you, Babe. I have for a long time. Then you finally break up with Morelli for good and I let my own head ruin the thing I want most." He sits down on one of the chairs, next to mine.

His words, again, repeat in my mind while my heart pounds. My emotions are threatening to break out of their carefully constructed cage. It took a long time for me to build up a wall around all things Ranger…

I turn to face him and look him right in the eye. "I need to set something straight with you. I may be willing to consider the remote possibility of you being a figure in the boy's lives. But as for you and me: that dog and pony show is over. Whatever was there before is long gone." His blank face slams into place. "Are we clear?"

He doesn't respond but he nods once.

I nod back and look away at the ocean. We sit like that for a long time. The sky is dark and the moon is up before we speak again. "And yet, you named them after me," Ranger says quietly. I can practically _feel_ the slight uplift of his mood. "Alexander Carlos and Christopher Carlos. You gave them my name. I thought you hated me?"

I shrug. "I did for a while there. I don't anymore. Don't let that encourage you."

"Seems like it."

I shake my head once. "I don't hate you anymore. I worked _hard_ not to hate you … or me."

"Glad to hear that. I'd really hate it if you hated me, especially considering I love you." He says softly.

I roll my eyes, "I'm sure you'll have no trouble getting over that."

"Maybe." He says simply. "There are all kinds of love, even one-sided kinds. This one can come with a ring if you want it to."

"No. I don't want an obligation marriage. I don't even think I ever want to be married. I never even wanted kids."

"What made you change your mind?"

I shrug. "I don't know really. I just couldn't give them up. You know, when I first found out I was pregnant, I was scared out of my mind. I did everything I could to let nature take a reverse course, including almost getting myself killed by chasing some pretty dangerous skips…" Ranger's nostrils flare. "I couldn't imagine myself with a kid, and then I found out it was twins! You can imagine what went through my head. Sometime around the end of the first trimester it became real and now… I don't know… its weird but I can't imagine my life without them. I thought it was going to change me; change who I was and I'd have to give up so much… but really it's quite the opposite."

Ranger listens quietly, "You make a good mother," he says resolutely.

I shrug my shoulders, "I don't know about that. But they're stuck with me either way."

He nods quietly. We sit like that for a while; side by side in silence. I bring my knees up to my chest and hug them, shivering a little. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Ranger raise his arm to put it around me but he doesn't. Instead he hesitates and drops it back to his side.

Soon, though, I hear another cry and it snaps me out of my reverie. It's Alex this time. He's sitting up in the crib, when I hurry into the room, and when he sees me he reaches out. I pick him up. "Hey, little man, what's the problem?" I check to see if he's wet and sure enough he is. I take the diaper bag to the bathroom and set up the sink to give him a bath. He calms down in the warm water and giggles as I tickle his tummy. When I'm done and he's fresh and clothed, I pass Ranger, who is watching us, leaning against the bathroom door frame and I go to the suit case where there are few toys. I pull out his favorite stuffed car toy and he holds on happily. When I turn to go get his bottle, he accidentally drops the car but Ranger drops down to pick it up. His face is unreadable as he looks at his son and hands him back his toy.

Struggling with the decision, I finally turn to him, "Do you want to hold him while I get the bottle ready?" I ask Ranger. I don't know why I give in… but I do realize he isn't a threat. That has to count for something.

There is a subtle change to his features… subtle to anyone but me. The almost smile appears but behind his eyes is a look … one I almost can't pinpoint. He looks like I've just given him the most priceless treasure map. Ranger reaches out and offers Alex his hand, not wanting to rush anything. Alex stares at him for a second, as if unsure, looks at me then back at Ranger before wrapping his tiny hand around one of Ranger's fingers.

I watch as Ranger picks Alex up out of my arms and holds him, inhaling deeply at Alex's sweet baby smell. Alex investigates his father, running his little hand over Ranger's nose that is identical to his. "Alex is older by two minutes," I say out of nowhere. "They look exactly the same but they have different personalities." I don't know why I volunteer the information as I get the bottle ready. "Tove is a little wilder and he doesn't usually like sleeping when his brother does."

"Are they healthy?"

I nod as I take the bottle out of the microwave and test it against my hand. "Yes. Very healthy. They just had another round of shots a little while ago."

I hand Alex his bottle and he takes it. "He has a strong grip." Ranger says with a smile.

I smile back. "He does."

He holds Alex in his arms, hardly being able to take his eyes away from him as the baby chugs on his bottle. "Babe, thank you for giving them my name. It means a lot."

I give him a small smile, "It may sound weird but I wanted them to have even just a small part of you. The part of you that I knew for so long, not the asshole part of you."

Ranger raises his eyes to meet mine. There's a smile playing on his lips, "They can have all of me. You and them are my highest priority." When I don't respond he continues. "Anyhow, it's not as weird as naming him Tove."

"It's short for Christopher." I say defensively.

"I like it; I'm just saying it's weird." He says as he kisses the hand that Alex is using to touch Ranger's face.

"That's Alex you're holding," I tell him.

Behind his stoic face, I can sense a little shame. "How do you tell them apart? Dressing them differently?"

"Usually. I'm not always into the whole dressing them alike deal. My grandmother does that. And my mother, though she prefers the 'identical sailor' look," I explain. "It's hard to tell them apart at first, but you learn quickly enough. They act different; Alex is calmer. Plus he's got a little birthmark behind his right ear." Ranger turns Alex around gently and inspects the mark as I continue. "Tove has a similar mark on his left shoulder." Ranger looks at the crib and I can tell he wants to inspect. "I'll show you when he wakes up, which should be soon." I say, checking my watch, "He hasn't eaten in a while."

I let Ranger hold on to Alex and lay on the large bed made up luxuriously in the hotel room. I'd woken up early this morning and am so tired. As I lay in bed, I listen to Alex's soft sucking sounds. They lull me to sleep.

It seems only seconds later, though, that another baby is crying. My eyes spring open and Ranger is sitting next to me playing with Alex on the bed. "Want me to get that?"

I shake my head, get up and go to Tove, immediately getting his bottle ready. Before I give it to him, though, I give him a quick bath and change him, and then I let him have his dinner. I sit on the bed, on the side opposite to Ranger while Tove has his bottle.

"I feel like a bastard for having to ask this, but how old are they?"

"They just turned one year old on November 10th."

Ranger nods, frowning. "Do you think you would be alright with me taking them out for their birthday? As a belated gift?"

"Maybe. What did you have in mind?"

He looks a little baffled. "I don't know, Disney World?"

I shake my head. "They're way too young. They'd get tired about fifteen minutes in."

"Hm." He says. "I guess the same would go for Sea World, right?"

"Definitely."

"Well, how about I take them shopping at a toy store and let them pick out what they want?"

I consider it for a moment. "No more than one thing per baby… I don't want them to be spoiled."

"One? It has to be at least five. I have to make up for lost time."

"Five?! Are you insane? Two."

"Three." He bargains.

I consent. "Fine three."

He picks up a giggling Alex and tosses him in the air. "You hear that? You're getting three presents!" I laugh as Alex giggles happily. Tove draws my attention to him by spitting out his bottle. He's staring intently at Ranger with wide eyes, examining this stranger who is holding his brother. Ranger holds out his hand and lets Tove come to him. Tove is a lot more trusting than his brother and immediately takes Ranger's finger in his little fist. "May I?" he asks, staring dazedly at Tove.

I nod and let him hold on to both his sons.

I wait a while, watching Tove investigate Ranger, inspecting his watch, gripping on to his hair, pulling at his cell phone which Ranger gives to him and he puts in his mouth. I stifle a laugh as Ranger gives him a look and Tove immediately takes it out of his mouth but continues to play with it, getting excited and laughing when he learns it flips open and lights up.

Alex crawls over to me holding up his toy car. I smile at him, "Can you say 'car' yet?" Alex coos and giggles. "I guess not, but nice try." I pick him up and tickle his little belly, making him laugh then kiss his cheek and put him back down.

"How long are you in town for?" Ranger asks me once Tove has concluded his investigation of him and has joined his brother in playing with the toy car.

"Sunday morning." I tell him.

"That's a short vacation."

"It isn't just a vacation; I got a job offer here. I'd be writing for Stylish Life magazine. I brought the boys because I couldn't be away from them for longer than a few hours."

"Would you move here?"

I shake my head. "No. They wanted to meet with me in person but I made it clear I'd want to write from home."

Ranger processes the information. "So one of your jobs is writing then?" I nod. "What do you write?"

"A column for the Jersey Gazette. I have a pretty decent following but I have no idea how people from Stylish Life heard of me."

"You're meeting with them tomorrow?" He asks and I answer in the affirmative. "Are you bringing the boys?"

"Yes." I say. "They have a small day care center in their building." I try not to show him how nervous I am about this but his ESP works against me.

"You're not comfortable with that."

I sigh. "Meh. It should be fine, it's only for about a half an hour or so. They stay in the University's day care when I'm teaching."

"But you know the people there." At my nod, he looks at me questioningly, "How do you work three jobs then if you have separation anxiety?"

I bite my lip. "Well, the column I write at home, teaching is only a couple hours a week; in between classes I'm with them. That's usually after I'm done at RangeMan so sometimes Valerie watches them, too…"

"And while you're at RangeMan you do your stuff from the 7th floor." He says.

"Yes," I say sheepishly, "But that was when I worked there." I remind him.

He puts a hand on Alex's back as he crawls on the bed. "You can have your job back, you know."

I shake my head. "No, thanks. Hopefully, I'll get this job and that'll mostly make up for the loss of income."

He sighs. "You know, I wasn't mad when I found out you were using the 7th floor to take care of the twins. I mean, sure, I was surprised to hear we had kids, but I didn't care that you brought them to work."

"You didn't?"

He shakes his head. "No. I think it's funny, actually. I'm glad; at least I could provide _something_ while I was away." He pauses for a minute. "Why don't you let me watch them?"

I raise an eyebrow. "Excuse me? _You_ want to babysit?"

"You just said it was only for half an hour or so. I can take them shopping for their birthday gifts."

I shake my head. "I don't think so. We agreed to be slow about this. That's not slow, that's going at the speed of light."

"If you're uncomfortable then I can stay here with them while you go and we can all go shopping together."

"Ranger, that is not a good idea." I lean over to stop Tove from toppling off the side of the bed. When he's safely back on the bed, he zooms off to climb over Ranger's crisscrossed legs as though they are Mount Everest.

He's watching the twins haul themselves up and over his legs with a small grin on his face, catching Alex now as he gets too close to the edge of the bed on his side. "Come on, Babe. It's a short time. I'll even take them with me to drop you off at the place and pick you up."

I waver for a minute, but really, they _would_ be safer with him. "Okay." I give an involuntary yawn.

"You should sleep."

I shake my head. "Can't. Not until they do."

"I'll watch them."

"It's alright."

"Babe, just lay back. I won't let anything happen to them."

I look at him for a long moment, contemplating. He wouldn't really let anything happen to them… and I _am_ really tired. "Okay."

He smiles as I lay my head on the pillow. In minutes I'm out like a light.

--

* * *

**Thoughts?**


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10**

The next day, I when I wake up, Ranger isn't in the room and the other side of the bed is made up. I'm relieved, actually, that he didn't stay over. I'm not ready for that yet and I feel a little grateful that he gets understands enough as not to invade my privacy.

There is a note on my bedside table, though. When I see it, I pick it up immediately, rubbing the sleep out of my eyes as I read it.

_Babe,_

_I'll pick you up tomorrow at 9AM._

_See you then,_

_Ranger_

I hate that the thought of seeing him sends mixed feelings into my gut. My life would be a lot easier if I could be indifferent towards him.

It's very early still so I check on the sleeping boys before taking a long, warm shower under the amazing water pressure in the hotel's luxurious bathroom. You should see the size of this shower, you could fit at least four people in here. I towel dry my hair and then take my time getting it to fall into shiny, big and loose waves with a large curling iron. I slowly, leisurely and perfectly apply my make-up, going for the sophisticated natural look instead of the glam look. I use neutral tones and colors that will make my eyes pop. To my lips I add a twinge of rosy color and accent them with a hint of lip gloss that I'll reapply before I leave for the interview. By the time I'm about to get dressed, the boys are up and demanding my attention so I pick them up and give them some kisses before I start to dress them. Today they'll be spending the day with their father.

I bite my lip… the thought alone makes me antsy. What if they don't like him? What if he doesn't like them? What if they get attached and he leaves? What if he gets called away in the middle of their play date and leaves them with a stranger. No, he wouldn't do that.

_He won't hurt them,_ I tell myself. _He wouldn't. He won't neglect them._ And it's the truth. _He better not if he knows what's good for him._

"You guys are going to be with your dad today, okay?" I tell them as I'm getting them ready. "Whatever you do, don't touch any of his guns. _Or_ his knives. If you're crawling around his feet, stay away from the knife in his boots, I'm pretty sure there's one in there. And be good, okay? I'm almost positive he won't send you to a third world country for spitting up on him, but why temp fate? I promise it won't be for too long. And I'll be back in a jiffy. You'll hardly notice I'm gone." They ignore me, of course. Alex plays with my shoe on the carpet floor while I'm getting his brother ready. Soon, they're all set in jeans and rugby t-shirts (Alex in red and white striped and Tove in green and white). I gently brush their soft, silky hair back. "I think you guys might need a hair cut soon." I say to them.

I've just put them in their cribs with bottles and am getting their bag ready when the phone rings.

"Babe," Ranger says when I pick it up. "Are you ready?"

"Almost," I tell him. "Give me about ten minutes."

"I'm coming up." He hangs up.

I realize I've got nothing but a bathrobe on. _Crap,_ I think and I run to bring my bag with the clothes I'm going to wear into the bathroom so I can change in there, along with my shoes and some jewelry. Before long there's a knock on the door. "Ranger?" I say through the door before opening it.

"It's me, Babe."

I open the door for him and he grins at me. "Is that what you're wearing to your interview? If so, I wholeheartedly approve."

I scowl at him as I let him in. "No, I'm not ready yet. Give me ten minutes."

Ranger immediately heads to the cribs where the boys are contentedly sucking on their bottles and picks them up while I head to the bathroom. It takes me longer than ten minutes, because, well, I'm a girl. I spend ten minutes just alternating between two different color shirts. Then I have to retouch my make-up. Then it's a bother to pick out jewelry.

Finally, I make it out of the bathroom and walk past Ranger, who is holding Tove as Alex crawls around on the bed, and go to the full-length mirror next to the wardrobe. I look decent enough. Professional. I have on black trousers with a skinny leg and a loose yellow silk sleeveless blouse with a pretty fabric rose on the shoulder. On top of that I've thrown on the matching fitted blazer and left it open. Black pumps complete the look.

"You look beautiful, Babe." Ranger says to me.

I don't respond right away, the compliment bringing up a million tingles and weird feelings. "Thanks." I mumble awkwardly before turning to him. "Are you sure you want to take them with you? What will you do while I'm in the interview?"

"I thought I'd take them to the shooting range and teach them how to hold a rifle."

"Ha-ha," I say sarcastically.

Ranger cracks a grin, "Relax. We're going to be in the park around that area, better?"

I nod. "In that case, here," I say, grabbing their sun-block, "take this with you. And watch out for the swings, their hair is a bit long. And make sure that if you let them in the sand box that they don't eat the sand… in fact, don't let them in the sand box there because I hear stray cats like to—"

"Stephanie, it's only about half an hour. _Relax._ I've been around babies before."

"When?" I ask skeptically.

Ranger blinks, his face holding perhaps a hint of amusement… or boredom. You never can tell with him. "You do know my sister is a mother of three, right?"

"I had no idea you volunteered for nanny duty for Celia's kids on a regular basis. Should I remind her of this when it's time for a girl's night out?"

"Babe."

I sigh. "Okay. Let's go."

Ranger holds the twins and their black bag and I bring the double stroller. As we reach his car (A black Mercedes SUV with dark tinted windows) a thought occurs to me. "Wait a second. Car seats. We're going to need car seats—,"

Ranger grins. "I've got it covered." He unlocks the doors and opens one. In the back seat are two matching black car seats and, let me tell you, if Batman had car seats made, this is what they would look like: they are sleek with black and gray upholstery and lots of padding. Honestly, I'm expecting to find the Bat-symbol embedded somewhere on them. Ranger looks at me and raises an eyebrow, "What's so funny?"

My smile grows, "That's just so _you_."

"Is that a bad thing?"

I shake my head, "No." I get my smile under control. "Okay, let's go."

--

* * *

The interview goes really well. They love my work and I get the job, which is amazing. They stuff I'd write for them is slightly different than my current piece in the Jersey Gazette. It's more about my take on various topics, so I can continue to write for both.

Serena, the features editor, is not at all what I expected. Honestly, I was expecting someone a bit like Anna Wintour, but she's just the opposite. Friendly, incredibly smart and with a sharp eye and biting wit. She's a straight-shooter and I like that. After she asks me a million questions and evaluates be, she smiles, the lines around her eyes crinkling. "Alright, Stephanie, I believe I've heard all I need to hear." She gets up and extends her hand to me, "Welcome to Stylish Life."

As I exit the building, I can't squelch the giant smile on my face. I'm just about to call Ranger when his black SUV pulls up in front of me. I get in, unable to stop beaming as I turn in the front seat and blow kisses at the boys.

"I'm guessing it went well?" Ranger asks as I buckle myself in and shut to door.

I look up at him with a big smile. "Yep."

"You got the job?"

I nod, "Yep."

He grins back at me, "Nice. Proud of you, Babe."

I don't know how to feel about that yet. "Thanks," I say. "How did it go for you? Did they behave?"

"They were fine. I had them fitted for their first handguns."

"Very funny." I can't help a small grin. It's not often Ranger jokes. So far that's twice today… should be a record for him.

"I decided against the playground, actually… not enough time. Went to the beach instead. They had smoothies." He picks up a Styrofoam cup with a lid and a straw. "This one is yours."

I look down at the cup with uncertainty. "It's not wheatgrass, is it?"

Ranger basically rolls his eyes… as much as Ranger _would_ roll his eyes, which isn't much. "Just try it."

I turn to the boys, "What do you think, guys, should I risk it?" Alex opens and closes his hands with a smile on his face. Tove stares out the window, babbling to himself. "Well, the jury is still out."

Ranger checks his rear-view mirror to see them. "Alex thinks you should."

"Uh-huh. Sure." But I take a small sip anyway and am surprised by what I find. "Strawberry!"

Ranger just smiles.

"Thank you."

"Anytime."

We drive about half an hour, mostly in silence at the beginning and I'm wondering where he's going. Not wanting to seem like a nag, I don't ask. Probably best not to, I'm sure, since he's in his 'driving zone'. As he promised, Ranger takes us to a toy store: A giant one. Leave it to Ranger to find the biggest and best of everything. He parks in the large parking lot of FAO Schwartz and the second we walk through the doors, the boys go crazy over giant stuffed animals, clowns and cars they could ride in when they're a little bigger. I find myself having to stop Ranger from dropping a small fortune on a mini Ferrari that actually runs and they could actually drive around. "Ranger, no!" I tell him, when he's checking out the specs, "Don't be silly!"

"Babe, he loves it." His smile grows wider when Alex's eyes bug out excitedly when he sees the car. It's literally a mini Ferrari convertible complete with shiny red paint, leather seats and the famous Ferrari emblem. It costs more than the Prius I have at home. He points happily at it from Ranger's arms. (We left the stroller in the car, since Ranger prefers to hold on to them anyway).

"He doesn't need it." I maintain. "Besides, this was his first birthday; he's not getting a Ferrari. What'll you get him for his 18th, Air Force One?"

Ranger grins.

When we reach the upper level of the store, there is one of those big floor pianos that you play with your feet. The toy store employee attending it encourages the boys to go play on it, helping them hit the notes that light up when they are touched. Tove goes crazy whenever he hits a new note, laughing and making excited baby noises. Ranger and I both laugh. "He should have one of these." He says.

"Ranger, this is the entire length of my living room!" I point out. "In fact, it might be _longer_ than my living room." In between talking Ranger out of buying up the store, I'm snapping pictures of the boys while they play. Their blue eyes are wide with excitement at every corner we turn.

"We can put it at RangeMan." He says, going over to Tove bending down to hit new notes with him.

Honestly, I NEVER would have anticipated this side of Ranger. I've never seen him smile so much or talk so much in the years I've known him. That haunted look is gone, completely replaced with his signature self-confidence and enhanced by his complete adoration for his sons. Despite my doubt about whether I really want him in _my_ life, for the first time ever, I'm happy to have him in the twin's lives. For the first time ever, I believe he could be a father. "Where at RangeMan? It might fit in the shooting range but that's about it. Unless you never want to use your _own_ living room again."

"I never use it that much anyway,"

I laugh. "No!"

We let them play on it for another minute then pick them up and continue our tour of the store. When we pass by the Disney princess area, I get excited about all the make-up and clothes. "Too bad neither of you turned out to be girls," I say to Alex who I'm now holding (Ranger now has Tove in his arms) "I have no excuse to buy any Little Mermaid stuff now." Alex ignores me and I kiss the top of his head.

Ranger raises an eyebrow at me. "The Little Mermaid?"

I nod. "She's my favorite Disney princess. Well, other than Tinker Bell but technically she's not a real princess." I can't resist picking up a cute Tinker Bell baby outfit and wand. Plus a little Tinker Bell toy box. _Ooh!_ Tinker Bell baby t-shirts!

"Babe, they're boys. You can't dress them like fairies." He says as he looks sourly at the items in my hands.

I crack a grin. "It's not for them, silly, it's for Maggie. Emily's daughter. I haven't gotten her a Christmas gift yet."

"I didn't peg you as the Disney princess type as a kid." Ranger says. "There's something I didn't know about you."

"There's a lot you don't know about me." I say quietly as I step away from him and towards another display of toys.

We look around a lot. Ranger seems to love it when something catches the boy's eyes. Alex falls in love with building blocks so I let Ranger get him a set of those. Tove, a music lover at heart, gets a mini electric toy guitar. As a joint gift, they get this toy train set complete with tracks and a bunch of other stuff. "Are you sure they can't swallow any of the pieces?" I ask Ranger as I examine the set.

"Babe, the smallest piece is as big as their forearm. They're not eating that." The store attendants carry all the stuff to the check out so we can continue to shop without the extra burden.

"You want to get them _more_ stuff?" I ask as he lets the attendant know we're going to continue looking around. "You said three."

"I said three _each._ Technically joint gifts don't count."

I give him a look that lets him know I'm not letting him get away with that. "The joint gift counts as one for each."

Ranger rolls his eyes. "Have it your way." He holds Tove up in his hands so that he's horizontal and higher up, bringing their foreheads to meet. "Your mom's a tough one."

Tove giggles.

"I'm just making sure they don't turn out spoiled." I tell him as Alex gets his little fist around a strand of my hair that has gotten loose and yanks. "Ouch, Alex, don't pull mommy's hair."

Ranger steps closer and gently loosens my hair from Alex's grip. "I can hold them both if your arms are getting tired." He tells me. I let him take Alex out of my arms for a little bit. It's amazing how big they have gotten over the last year and yet they can look so tiny in Ranger's oversized muscular arms.

He's not holding them for long, though, because the next minute we step into a section with nothing but powered riding toys. Alex almost jumps right out of Ranger's arms when he sees them. Ranger puts them both down, crouching down next to them so they can lean on him as they stand on wobbly legs. We both stick by them as they move around excitedly.

"Chuck!" Tove says, pointing to the truck that Alex is looking at.

Alex is standing up, supporting himself on Ranger's arm until he sees a big toy truck big enough for two kids to sit in. It's orange and black, big, bulky, tough looking and Alex cannot tear his eyes away.

Then he does it. With wobbly legs, he lets go of Ranger's arm and takes a step towards the truck. And then another. And then another. "Ohmigosh …" I whisper, unable to take my eyes away from him. He's doing it. _He's really doing it!_

Ranger looks up at me with an eyebrow raised. He frowns, thinking something is wrong and makes a move to pick up Alex from whatever unseen danger there might be but I put a hand on his arm stop him. "Wait." I watch my son take his first steps in awe.

"Babe?"

"He's walking." I whisper. "He's _actually_ walking!"

Things finally click for Ranger and he looks at Alex, silently watching him go with the almost-smile firmly in place.

Alex almost makes it all the way to the truck without falling, but not quite. It doesn't stop him, though, he crawls over to it and hauls himself up against it. When he reaches it, I realize that my eyes are a little dry from not blinking. "Alex!" I say, snapping out of my haze. I go over to him and give him a bunch of kisses on his face. "You did it! You walked!" Alex, thinking I'm excited about the truck, points at it and makes more unintelligible baby noises, obviously excited about the car. Ranger and I laugh, "No, kid, you walked." Nothing. I may as well be speaking Japanese. "Alex, Yay!"

As soon as I say the magic word, both he and his brother start clapping.

Ranger laughs with the full-blown smile on his face. "Did you train them to do that?"

I shake my head and hope he doesn't notice me hastily wiping water from my eyes. _Where's that come from?_ "I swear I didn't."

He just nods and meets my gaze, then holds it for a long minute. His eyes are soft, happy. He brushes a stray tear from my face and kisses my forehead. For a split second, I let myself take in the moment.

I can't ask for much from him, I know that, but this one instant, this one single moment where the both of us are holding our boys and appreciating the smallest little miracle… that I can let myself be grateful for without wishing for more. This is enough.

Then, when I look away, he kisses Alex on top of his head as he bangs excitedly on the truck.

The next minute we're letting them both sit in the toy truck. It's too big for them still but Ranger insists that this is the third gift for them. "He took his first step towards it, Babe, its fate!"

"But it's for ages 3-5. They can't even use it for two years."

He shrugs. "They'll grow into it. Besides, they always say ages 3 and up but no one really waits that long. Look at them in there, they love it. I'll push them around on it until their feet are long enough to reach the pedals." He spots two more powered pick-up trucks, actual mini Ford F150s, that only seat one baby each. "These are for ages 2 and up. They'll grow into these in no time."

"Ranger, you want to buy three trucks?!"

"One each for them now and the big one is for next year's birthday. They'll fit into it then."

Ranger sits them into mini Ford F150s and the boys have so much fun twisting and turning the steering wheel. We push them around the little power-car area for a couple minutes and while they play around. I give in and we end up having the attendant bring out one of the bigger trucks in the black color and two of the F150s (also black, of course), unopened. Ranger's favorite has been the Ram in the past but I willing to bet his next car is a Ford F150. I'll bet twenty bucks and a lap dance.

We end up buying quite a few things, including baby cargo pants, a black baby t-shirts which I grudgingly go a little mushy over. All in all, Ranger spends just under $3500 on the twins today, plus he buys Maggie's gift for me. The store agreed to ship all the purchases to New Jersey; they'd arrive at RangeMan in 1-2 business days.

My stomach growls out of nowhere as we're leaving the toy store with the boys in our arms. "It's nice to know some things haven't changed," Ranger says. "Come on, let's go feed the beast."

--

* * *

**Thanks to everyone for the reviews! I'm a few more chapters into this story but I keep getting inspiration to change or add things from you guys and it's awesome! Keep the feedback coming, you guys inspire me so much!**


	11. Chapter 11

**My sincerest apologies for the extra long delay. My muse is kind of tapped out. I keep wanting to change it or turn something around. I can't and won't post anything until it seems right to me... I'm a bit neurotic, what can I say? Anyhow, if you guys have any suggestions or things you would like to see happen or ideas, pm me. I need inspiration. I do promise, however, that this story will not go ignored. It will be finished.**

**

* * *

**

**Chapter 11**

The Miami trip succeeded in two things: making me more comfortable around Ranger and making Ranger a part of the kids' lives. He now wants to talk to, hear about or see the boys on a daily basis and that's okay with me. It's only been a week so we'll see if he gets bored of it. I still don't work at RangeMan, but we're trying to work things out amicably. I think he's resolved to the fact that I'm never really going to trust him like I used to but I do trust him with the boys and that's a huge stride. Emily was right; I can't stay mad at him forever, it's not healthy. So we're friends… sort of. Acquaintances… no, that doesn't sound right. Comrades? Whatever. It's an uneasy friendship, but there it is.

A couple days after I return, I awake to the sound of a crying baby, which isn't uncommon. But the cry itself is unfamiliar to me. From the damn baby monitor, I can't tell which baby it is. I _knew_ I never should have moved their cribs to the nursery. It just wasn't time yet. Still in a stupor, I move, zombie-like, to the twin's nursery, switch on the light as I walk in only to find Alex sitting up in his crib.

"Hi, buddy. You're up early." It's earlier than I think, actually. As I look at the Mickey Mouse clock in their room, it's two hours earlier than they should be up.

That should have been the first sign that something was wrong. As I pick Alex up, he continues crying; something that usually stops the minute he's out of the crib. I still don't recognize the type of cry. It isn't his hungry cry or his wet cry. His bored/fussy/give-me-attention-NOW! cry is a little higher pitch than this one.

It isn't until I pull him against me and my cheek touches the side of his head that I realize he has a fever. _Oh, fuck!_ I think.

Now, I suppose in the future I'll think that this is no big deal, that every kid has to get their first illness at some point, that it's a good sign since their immune systems will build up. None of those things, however, run through my head at the present time.

"Alex, holy crap! You have a fever!" In the back of my head, I'm cursing myself for not having spent months reading every single parenting book available to tell you how to deal with this. I stopped reading them as soon as the twins were born and had hardly gotten past the delivery part. I have a thermometer here somewhere, right? Yes, I do, I got it as a baby shower gift a long time ago. I carry Alex to the bathroom and rifle through the drawers until I finally come upon the unwrapped one. I hastily unwrap it (using one free hand and my teeth, I might add) and stick it in Alex's ear. When it beeps and I look at the screen, my heart rate kicks it up a notch. "Alright, Alex, let's not panic. No panicking. None."

But, of course, he's still crying. It's too early for a doctor's visit, unless I want to take him to the emergency room. But then, I can't leave Tove here alone. It's 3 in the morning, so no one could babysit.

I run through my mental address book and rule out people to call; the doctor's office isn't open yet, Emily and Celia have kids and would know what to do, but they've done enough for me already and I don't think friendship stretches to these early hours. My grandmother: no. My mother: maybe. Valerie… yes.

I grab the phone and speed dial Valerie. She's my big sister and it's therefore her obligation to help. Besides, I found her a husband (albeit a plump, balding, pansy of one, but still), she owes me one.

Someone picks up, "hello…" it's the raspy morning voice of Albert Kloughn.

"Albert? I need to talk to Val. You have to wake her up."

"Huh?"

"Albert! Do as I say!" I yell into the phone which doesn't help calm Alex down at all. I bounce him in my arms and try putting his pacifier in his mouth to calm him.

"Ma?"

I roll my eyes. "Yes, it's your mother. Now put your wife on the phone."

"Ma, Valerie doesn't like to be woken up. Why don't you call back in the morning?"

"Albert Kloughn, you put her on the phone or so help me…"

"Okay! Okay. Here she is, mommy."

I hear a little shuffling and then Valerie's voice answers. "Mrs. Kloughn?" She asks, a little tightly.

"No, Val, it's Steph."

"Steph? Why are you at Albert's mom's house?"

"I'm not, can you just listen for a second—."

"It's 3 in the morning—,"

"I know! Alex has a fever of 101. I don't know what to do. I didn't know who else to call…" I pause.

I hear the rustling of sheets. "It's okay, don't worry. 101 isn't that bad. Keep him in a room separate from Tove so he doesn't get his brother sick. If it persists longer than 24 hours, then take him to a hospital. Lots of fluids will help. Keep him warm, too, so he can sweat it out."

I hesitate, "Is that it?"

"Yes. If you want to take him to the doctors, I can come over after the girls go to school. But, relax, it's going to be okay."

I nod. "Okay, thanks Val." And I hang up the phone.

Now, in the year since their birth, I've become a pretty competent parent and I've gotten used to the unexpected. _However_, this is a little different and I'm beginning to feel the uncertainty creeping up on me. And like any new parent, I just have to deal with it. First, I get Alex a bottle of juice, wrap him up tightly and hold him to me as I sit in the armchair.

The whole time, I debate calling Ranger.

The whole 'fatherhood' thing with him doesn't sit too comfortably with me yet but that shouldn't matter, right? It's not about me, it's about Alex. And, I suppose Ranger has a right to know. I pick up the house phone to call and wait until someone at RangeMan picks up. "Hey," I say when someone finally does. I'd normally call his cell but it's not on my speed dial. RangeMan, however, definitely is. "Can you patch me through to the penthouse, please?"

"Who is calling, please."

"It's Stephanie. I need to talk to Ranger. It's … it's important."

"The boss isn't currently in the building, ma'am. Can I take a message?"

I frown. He's not in the building at 3 in the morning? And then my mind jumps to the most likely reason. "Oh. No thanks. Bye." I hang up, annoyed at myself for feeling some kind of pang in my chest at the thought of Ranger with another woman.

I can easily forget about it, though, because Alex is fussy, still. When he's finally calm enough, I put him in the playpen and carefully move his crib to my room so I can keep an eye on him. When it's a decent enough hour, I call work and tell them that I'll need someone from the department to cover for me, since, luckily, it's an exam day with essay questions. That's simple enough. I'll just pick up the exams another day. I put the humidifier in my room for Alex and let him sleep.

By the time all that is done, it's Tove's turn to be up, so I go through his normal morning ritual; bathing him, feeding him and settling him down with a book in the playpen. I don't know much about germs but I figure I should open some windows in the nursery, air it out, change some of their bedding and wipe it down. I do the same with the bathroom. It's not very often that I clean. I mean, sure, when my grandmother or mother come by, they take care of that for me and I know that seems a little pathetic. Who cares? I'm a busy woman. And I detest cleaning. However, now seems like a good time to tidy up. I do all the boring chores: laundry, dishes, wiping counters… all that jazz.

I check on Alex every ten minutes or so, a little desperate to see if his fever has gone down. The fact that it never does isn't comforting in the least. Finally, in the early afternoon, I call the doctor, make an emergency appointment and go get ready. I debate calling Ranger again, telling myself that I should put all feelings aside and do what I need to. I'm about to pick up the phone and call when it rings and Valerie tells me she's just dropped off the girls and will come over if I want to take Alex to the doctor. Then he starts crying again so I forget everything else on my mind.

Valerie comes over and sits stays with Tove. I thank her endlessly, strap a tightly bundled Alex to his car seat and drive off to the doctors. While I'm in the waiting room, Ranger calls. "Hey," I say.

"Babe, do you know anything about a Salazar Breslin?"

"You mean Sleazy Bres? Yeah, he's a perverted little rat who used to run around kissing the Morelli boy's asses and trying to hump anything on two legs. Why?"

"He's a skip. There's not much on him in the research department. I figure we could waste money and time asking a bunch of people about him or just ask you."

I grin, "What am I? You're one-stop guide to the Burg?"

"Basically."

"Well, unfortunately, Sleazy was before my time. He'd already dropped out of high school by the time I entered it. Ask Connie, though. She has some cousins who might know. Or, actually, you could ask my sister. She's at my house now if you want to reach her."

"Thanks. You're not home? Are you working?"

I don't hesitate, "No, I'm at the doctor's office. Alex has his first fever."

There's a short pause on the other line. "Is he alright?"

"I hope so. I gave him fluids and everything but I was getting nervous so I just decided to come in. Valerie's at my house with Tove."

"What's his temperature?"

"101." I think I hear something on the other line but I can't be too sure.

"Why didn't you call me when you found out?"

This time I do hesitate, feeling a little guilty "I did. This morning. You weren't there."

"I have a cell phone."

"I didn't want to bother you. I figured you were… busy."

There is more silence on the other line. "What time was this?" He asks.

"Around 3 in the morning."

"Then you figured wrong. I was asleep."

I don't know how to respond to that. "I don't know… I wanted to call you again, I thought about it…." I say truthfully, "…It didn't seem like an emergency. Besides, there was nothing either of us could do. No point in worrying you, too."

Ranger breathes a sigh into the phone. "I can't make it there any time soon, but call me as soon as you know what's up."

"Okay."

He hangs up without a goodbye.

When I finally get to see the doctor, he doesn't seem surprised… there are lots of kids coming in with Alex's symptoms. It's a bug that's going around and he says that, most likely, Tove already has it and is delayed in showing the signs. The thought worries me and sure enough, when I get home, Valerie tells me that he's looking a little flushed. I call and let Ranger know what's going on and then, when she leaves, I move both their cribs back into the nursery and leave the humidifier on in there. It's just easier that way. See, I'm learning!

It turns out to be the longest evening I've had in a while. When one baby can't breathe through his nostrils, the other has a runny nose. When one is asleep, the other is coughing, which wakes up the sleeping baby. It's a long afternoon of crying babies, spit up and headaches. I feel terrible that there isn't anything more I can do but I'm already running around in desperation. The doctor didn't recommend any medications, and even though they're feeling bad, I don't dare give them any baby aspirin after hearing about the horrors associated with it. Even my mom and grandmother suggest the all natural route. I haven't felt this hopeless since they were infants.

Early in the evening, the doorbell rings as I'm trying to calm a crying/coughing Tove. I carry him with me, look through the peephole and open the door for Ranger.

He walks in with a grocery bag and a grim look on his face. "Babe, you're looking a little crazy."

I'm sure I do; I've been spit up on but have had no time to change. Alex used my shirt for a Kleenex earlier and my eyes surely have bags under them from exhaustion. "Thanks," I say dryly as I bounce Tove around gently, trying to get him to stop crying. "Come on, kid, I know it's bad. It'll be over before you know it."

"How long's he been like this?" He asks, his mouth tight as he looks at Tove.

I shake my head. "I don't even know. Too long. It's only making his headache worse." I squeeze Tove to me, "It's alright, buddy. Sshh … Sshh…."

Ranger comes towards me, "Do you want me to take over?"

I nod and hand him the baby. "Thanks. Look, Alex is asleep, do you mind staying with him while I shower?"

He nods and I go for my second (and desperately needed) shower of the day. If Ranger wants to be a parent, he can deal with them while I take a few extra minutes relaxing. I shave my legs, wash my hair and then towel dry it quickly. I put special creams on my face to reduce the bags under my eyes, but when I get out, wrapped in a towel, I hear Ranger my room with now two crying babies. I peek in to make sure everything is all right. He looks a little alarmed. "Alex won't go back asleep."

I nod, "That's Tove you're rocking." It's really not his fault, I did put them both in identical white layettes today without giving it much thought.

He looks at the baby. "Crap. Is there an off button somewhere?"

I stifle a laugh. "No. Hold on, though, I'll be right back." I hurry to my closet and pull out another pair of velour pants; beige ones with a light blue camisole and rush back to the bathroom to dress. No way I'm changing in front of Ranger. "Alright, come on," I take Tove out of his hands and take him downstairs where I hand him a bottle of juice. It takes a while but eventually we get both babies to go to sleep. When they do, we collapse on my couch.

Ranger is shaking his head. "I don't know how you did it. I couldn't last twenty minutes with the both of them crying. You did it for a year."

I shrug, "Well, they didn't cry for the _entire_ year."

"Babe."

"It wasn't so bad after the first month and a half. The first two weeks were the worst. But then, I got used to it."

He puts an arm around my neck and pulls me towards him.

I can't help a little giggle.

"What's on your mind," he asks.

I grin a bit bigger. "Well, you spend your days and nights ridding the world of bad people. You're Big Bad Ranger. Batman. Man of mystery."

"And that's funny because?"

"Because Big Bad Ranger was worn out by two baby boys in twenty minutes. It's funny." I say with a laugh.

His arm tightens around my neck. "This is ruining my image, isn't it?"

I shrug again, "To me, perhaps. I wouldn't worry, though. You still scare the daylights out of everyone else."

"I don't scare you anymore?"

"Meh." I say with a smirk, "You're still a complete mystery to me, if that's any consolation. And I'm pretty sure you're Batman."

He nods and remains silent for a while. I'm almost dozing off to sleep when he says, "I was home last night. Not at the penthouse, at my house."

My eyes spring open and I look at him. "What?"

"Last night, when you called. I was asleep in my house," he says firmly, his eyes meeting mine with his signature unyielding assertion. "Alone."

I blink. "Oh. Okay."

Ranger unhooks his arm from around my shoulders and gets up off the couch. He makes his way up the stairs and a minute later comes back down and grabs his jacket from the coat rack by the front door. "They're still out. See you later, Babe."

I say nothing as I walk to the hallway and watch him open the door with my arms crossed over my chest. He makes his way out and I follow, leaning up against the door frame and watch him go out into the darkening night. "Wait," I say finally.

Ranger turns around and briefly lifts one eyebrow.

"Why did you tell me that?"

Ranger looks at me for an immeasurable moment. "I don't want or need to be a mystery to you anymore." And then he turns around and walks to his car.

* * *

A couple days before Christmas Lula and I are sipping on the Tasty Pastry's signature hot chocolates and looking out my window to the backyard. It's started to snow a bit and the ground it frosted with a thin layer of fluff. The twins are in the living room with us playing around on the ground. I love when Lula comes over and tells me about her skips, although I feel a little guilty because if I hadn't had the twins, the person going through all the skip tracing mishaps would be me.

"Well, he had a snake," she's saying to me, "and I'm not talking about his willy. I'm talking about a big python or something. You see that movie Anaconda? The one where J-Lo fights a snake? Well, it was about as big as that one."

I roll my eyes, "I'm sure you're exaggerating."

Lula sucks her teeth. "Well, maybe a little bit. Anyway, I told Vinnie that there ain't no way I'm getting my ass bitten by a snake. He can get Ranger to go wrangle it or something."

"Ranger won't be seen going after Georgie Porkenblatt. Why don't you lure him out?"

"How am I gonna do that?"

"You're a woman, aren't you? Show him your goods." I tell her, "Either that or bring snake food next time."

"That's not a bad idea. The snake food, I mean, not the luring him out. I have a man that keeps me satisfied, thank you very much and he wouldn't like it if I was showing my goods to random punk ass skips."

I groan a little bit, "You're lucky."

"I know. Speaking of which, when was the last time you went for a joy ride on a magic stick?"

"Lula!" I gasp, looking around at the twins.

"What?" She asks innocently, "It's not like they know what I'm talking about."

I shake my head, "It's been far too long. It's okay, though, I have my books. They're keeping me sane." Emily was also right about something else… every mommy needs a little "me time", and though mine comes to me in the form of erotic vampire romance novels in the middle of the night these days, its quickly becoming more demanding.

Lula looks skeptical, "Mm-hm. Either that or they're making it worse. That's like trying not to smoke by taking a little puff every once in a while. Sooner or later you're going to want a nice long drag."

"Not true."

"Uh huh. How often did you masturbate before you got the books?"

My eyes widen, "Lula, could you not use the M-word around the twins?"

She rolls her eyes again, "Fine. How often did you puff before you got the books?"

"Never."

"Right. And now that you have them, how often?"

I make a face as I calculate the number in my head. "Alright, I see your point."

"Exactly. You keep taking all these little puffs and sooner or later you're gonna blow."

There it is. Words of wisdom by Lula. It's really too bad she has a point. When she leaves later on in the evening, I'm left wondering about who I can get to spend a couple hours in the sack with me. Ranger is out for obvious reasons. Morelli is out because he's screwing everything on two legs. My options are really limited here.

The next morning I'm up much too early, as usual and I'm reading over an intimidating stack of papers I still have to grade when my phone rings. It turns out to be one of the non-options.

"Babe." He says as soon as I pick up the phone. "Are you home?"

"Yep." He knows I don't work this morning and it's a little unnerving how well he knows my schedule now.

"I've got some stuff we need to go over. Busy?"

"Not terribly."

"Be there in ten."

Ten minutes? I think urgently as he hangs up. _Damn!_ I'm in sweat pants, my hair was a matted mess, I have Tove's spit up on me from the crack of dawn when he woke up the first time, so I stink and I'm pretty sure I have leftover eye-liner smudged on my face. I run upstairs to my bathroom, literally hop in and out of the shower in twenty seconds, scrubbing my face and wetting my hair. I throw my dirty clothes in the hamper and run naked to my room, fishing out a fitted navy blue velour sweat suit, pairing it with a tan camisole under. I spritz my hair with some conditioning serum, and towel dry it a bit before throwing the mass of curls into a ponytail.

Its not that I want to look good for Ranger. Really, it isn't. It's just unsettling when he looks perfect and I'm a perfect mess.

I take a quick scan of my bedroom, and groan… it's a mess. I fix the comforter over my bed, pick up the dirty clothes scattered all over the place and scoop them into my hamper in the bathroom. Well, at least the floor is somewhat clean. Ranger has been inside my house, of couple of times, of course and as usual, he's bound to wander upstairs since the boys are asleep in their cribs. He's never actually been in my room but I don't want him to think a total slob is raising his kids. When I leave the room five minutes later, it's somewhat clean, so I head downstairs where I was going over term papers on my little kitchen table before Ranger called. On the way, I straighten out a few things in the living room. I'm contemplating cleaning up the few dishes in the sink when the doorbell rings.

"Hi." I say opening the door.

Ranger almost-smiles. "Hi."

I step aside and let him in. "So what's up?"

He holds up a thin manila envelope. "I have some stuff to go through with you."

I stop. "It's not custody papers is it? Because I told you I'm not ready for—,"

"No. Not custody. Financial stuff. Are the boys asleep?"

I nod. "Yeah, they're upstairs. They'll be up in a little while though."

"Alright." He strips off his coat and sits on the couch. "Babe, I know you're going to be stubborn about this, but it's important. Lester told me what went on at the doctor's when you went."

I squelch an annoyed twinge and say a little too innocently, "Oh? I don't know what you mean."

Ranger's eyes stare through me calmly. He doesn't believe me. "I was told you were working yourself to the point of a nervous breakdown, you're sleep-deprived, your blood pressure is at a dangerous level, you popped a blood vessel—,"

"I didn't pop a blood vessel!" I say indignantly.

A small, sly grin appears on Ranger's face. "Right. But all the rest of it is accurate, isn't it."

I scowl, finally realizing that he's tricked me into revealing the truth. "I hate you. And Lester. That blabbermouth." For a brief second I wonder who told Lester and my guess is either Celia or Emily.

"You're killing yourself trying to keep everything going—,"

"_Was_ killing myself. And that's too strong a term, anyway. Besides, my schedule has cleared up."

Ranger continues as though I hadn't interrupted, "You want to fill me in on the details Lester left out?"

"Nope." I say without missing a beat.

He looks as though he may want to argue but drops it. "It's time for me to do my part."

"Ranger, I don't want—,"

"But I'm giving it. A monthly allowance for child support. I was hoping we could come to a decision as to the amount." He looks into the envelope. "Going by what you used to make at RangeMan and adding some for each of the boys I was thinking ..." he gives me an amount.

My eyes widen, "A month! Are you insane?"

"But this way, you wouldn't have to do 18 jobs to stay afloat."

"I don't have 18 jobs, I have three."

"Four. I know you do some work for Vinnie still."

"Only whenever it suits me."

"Overworking yourself is a dangerous thing, babe. This doesn't have to be complicated, it's what you're entitled to as the mother of my children. I also want to take care of your mortgage."

"No way, Daddy Warbucks, I've got that covered."

"Babe."

"Ranger. I'm fine. I thought we agreed to start slow?"

"I am starting slow. I just want to be sure that you're not going to drop dead one day from stress." He says and I scowl. He says another amount, less than the last, but still too much.

I sigh. "I can't let you give me more than half of that."

His mouth tilts up in a smile. "Fine. That is reasonable." He hands me a form. "I'm going to deposit it straight into your account every month. Now, what about health insurance?"

I shake my head. "No. That's mine."

"RangeMan's health coverage is one of the best. I'd like it if they were under mine."

"The University has decent health benefits, they're fine."

"Yes, but right now only you have access to their records. Speaking of which…" he brings out another form. "I'd like you to fill this out and officially put me down as their father."

I sigh. "Ugh. Why are you giving me even more paperwork? When do you want this by?"

"As soon as possible. Why not just take a few minutes to fill it out now? I'll wait."

I glare at him. "Do you know how many term papers I have to grade right now?"

"Stephanie, the sooner you get this over with, the easier it will be for all of us. I also have the name changing forms here."

"No. No name change."

"Steph—,"

"Ranger, it's a lot to do right now. That requires a ton of—,"

"I'll take care of all the paperwork, all you'd have to do is sign."

But it's a step I'm not ready for… "Soon. Maybe." He and I stare at each other for a while, his gaze is as intimidating as ever, "You said the process would be slow and here you are changing things left and right as they suit you, regardless of what anyone else wants. You're not going to bully me into crap when it comes to the boys."

Ranger narrows his eyes at me.

I glare right back. "I'm not changing their names. That's done."

"You want them to go through life as Alex and Tove Plum? Isn't that a little mean?"

"Hey! I like my last name."

Ranger sighs. "Fine. Just fill out the other form then."

I grab a pen, went through the form carefully and filled out the information. I suppose it's reasonable that he wants some rights as a father. After I'm done, I hand it back to him.

"Thank you," he says as he puts it back into the manila envelope.

We go over a few more things and he brings up the issue about their name change one more time, but I still don't agree to it. He asks about things I need for the house, like he usually does, but I need nothing.

"There is one thing I need to talk to you about," I tell him. "I'm having them baptized soon. I wanted it to be a small thing, and not in the 'Burg. I was thinking somewhere around here. I don't know what you… I mean… Do you… um… Is that the sort of thing you do? I mean—"

"I'll be there. When?"

I shrug, "Sometime in April, when it's warm." Ranger frowns. "What's wrong?" I ask.

His face goes blank again. "Nothing."

"You sure?"

He nods once. "Just let me know when. Have you picked Godparents yet?"

"No. I was thinking Emily or Lula for Godmother. Or maybe Valerie."

"How about Lester for the Godfather?"

I smile, "I'd like that."

"Done." We're just wrapping things up when we hear one of the twins crying over the baby monitor. "I'll get that." He heads upstairs and comes back with a distracted look on his face and Alex contentedly nestled in his arms. "Babe, there's something you should know," he begins when he reaches me in the kitchen where I'm getting a bottle ready.

"Is it bad news?"

"It might be unwelcome news to you."

So I brace myself, "Go ahead."

"You remember Saul, Theo and Lisa?"

How could I forget the team he left with back then and the tramp he went with. "Yes," I say through gritted teeth. A slithering foreboding fills me, "You're leaving again?"

"No. I told you, I'm out. _They_, however, are not. I turned down their offer to participate in their latest case, but they wanted someplace low key to do recon. I offered them the RangeMan offices. When you said you wanted the baptizing to take place in April, I remembered. They may be here around that time."

I don't know how to process this. And I tell him so. "Okay. I don't know what to say to that."

He's still looking at me. "You don't have to say anything. But I wanted you to know."

I test the bottle on my hand and give it to Alex. "It's your life, Ranger. That's your business." I say with a scowl before exiting the kitchen.

He follows me. "Are you ready to hear about—."

"I don't want to know about you and your girlfriend."

"She isn't—,"

"Fine. I don't want to know about you and your _ex_-girlfriend. Better?"

Ranger stalks over to me and stops about 3 inches away. "I've only had two relationships in my life, Babe. Neither of them involved Lisa."

I take Alex from him as he reaches out to me and grasps a loose strand of my hair. "Whatever. I told you I'd rather not know."

"Why?"

"Why don't I want to know about the girl you screwed me over for? Gee, let me think? That's a tough one!"

Ranger winces. "Babe, you can't say things like that if you don't know what happened. It's true, I had doubts. The mission came up after that night with you and I realized what I was committing to. What I was committing _you_ to. Lisa caught a glimpse of my doubt somehow and used it against me in her own… _unique_ way."

"Bitch," I mutter, then catch myself, "Alex, mommy didn't just say that." I say to the baby in my arms before turning my attention back to Ranger. "I don't need to know this." I turn and put Alex into the playpen.

"Yes, you do. You're stubborn, I get it. But you're going to hear me out. Even if you hate me more afterwards, you're going to know the truth about it all."

"Why? Why do you have to tell me things that have nothing to do with me?"

"Because," Ranger puts his hands on my waist and turns me back around to face him, "It has a lot to do with you." His proximity is throwing me. His voice is low, his eyes are as soft as I've seen them. "You know it has a lot to do with you."

"Not anymore," I say. I wanted it to come out strong but it hardly is more than a whisper..

One of his hands moves to my hair. "Always." His eyes hold me captive. "Lisa wanted me to prove that I had no ties, that I was focused on the task at hand. As one fourth of the unit, she had a right to demand an answer. She wanted me to put you out of my mind for the duration of the mission. I rationalized that it would be for the best, but I have to admit that wasn't the only 'why' of it. I've never been good at relationships but I loved you and I hated the thought that it would only be a matter of time before I ended up putting you through the ringer. I thought my life was my own but that specific mission came up towards the end of my contract and I didn't want to turn it down. There was a time after I left when she and I—,"

"Don't."

"—We _almost_… but I couldn't. I didn't. I told her to keep her head in the game."

"You expect me to believe that for two years you never slept with her."

Ranger hesitates. "Not with her."

I want to stay stubborn. I want to not care. "Why didn't you call me back? I left you dozens of messages."

"I didn't know what you were going to tell me and I thought you deserved more than some excuse over the phone. I couldn't even really wrap my mind about what had happened either. Hearing your voice… even in the messages, it was a lot for me. You being on my mind the way you were wasn't healthy. I had to distance myself."

I cross my arms over my chest. "Well, good for you. Hope you had fun," I try to move around him but he traps me, stopping any movement on my part and leaning in closer.

"No. Nothing about it was fun, Babe. There wasn't a day that I didn't miss you."

"Oh I'm sure I was on your mind when you were screwing other women out there." I say with disgust. "Why did you come back? Did you think I'd still be pining after you?"

"No. I hoped you wouldn't hate me, but I did need to catch up on what was going on at RangeMan. I'd been gone two years. Seeing you, though, was my main focus. I wanted to come back before but I figured you might still be angry."

"I am."

"I know. But I love you. And you can hate me for the rest of our lives but that isn't going to change."

"That night," I say finally, a lump forming in my throat. I swallow it down. "You told me you were all in. You said—," I swallow again. "I _told_ you not to make me any promises. I warned you—,"

"I know. Babe, I'm so sorry. I'd kill to turn back time. I should have explained—,"

"You shouldn't have lied!"

"It wasn't a lie. Nothing I told you was a lie. Maybe I rushed it." He says. I don't even realize that his hands are now running up and down my arms until he steps even closer. "It was a big mistake."

"Which part? The committing to me part or the lying to me part?"

"I didn't lie." He repeats, "The mistake was committing to you before I was ready." His proximity disgusts me and I break away from him, putting a good five feet between us. He doesn't look happy as he continues talking. "You'd almost died on that last case... you remember? Two years ago, when David Lawson almost killed you. You almost died. I got scared."

"Well, you'd better make sure you don't get frightened again, okay? Because if making promises you can't keep is a symptom of your fear, I'm not going to be responsible for me reaction the next time."

"Babe—,"

"Whatever, Ranger. I don't know why you felt you had to explain. There is nothing between you and me anymore. You 'got scared' and screwed with my head. I'm over it and it won't happen again. But you even think about doing that with the twins and I'm going to make sure you never see them again. I don't care what part of the world you disappear to but if you up and leave like that again, make damn sure you stay gone."

It isn't until I hear another baby crying through the baby monitor that my anger starts to dissipate. _Saved by the baby,_ I think as I leave Ranger and go up the stairs. "Oh, and your _friends_ aren't invited to the baptism. Make sure they don't come near my kids."


	12. Chapter 12

**I'm baaaaaaaaack...**

* * *

"So what are you going to do about it?" Emily asks me as we sit with glasses of iced tea in her living room.

I shake my head. "Nothing. Pretend it isn't happening. Ignorance works well for me." We had decided to hang out and watch the Real Housewives show tonight. Guilty pleasure, so sue us. I love Emily's house; you'd never believe a psychology professor lived here. It's more suited for a frat boy or a bachelor pad; has big comfy furniture laid out in the living room, a big TV, and car stuff all over the place, car magazines stacked in the corner and some laid out on the coffee table. I love it. I have seen her office before and it's the complete opposite: totally organized with a big desk, some armchairs and tons of books, but it's the only spot in the house that seems serious.

"But this woman is going to be in and around Trenton."

"And? She's not my problem."

"Sure, except that he loves you and you're reluctantly in love with him and she was a contributing factor in the demise of your relationship. It sounds like she has him in her mind as some kind of goal."

I roll my eyes, "I don't love him. I _loved him_. Past tense. And I don't care what she wants. She can have him."

Emily doesn't respond but the silence is loaded. She scoots off the couch and onto the carpet where the babies that are crawling around our feet on the big blanket she spread over her rug. "Tove, why are you eating your fist? Silly boy!" She squeezes him and kisses his cheek. "You know," she says to me, "I'm going to offer this advice, which your stubborn streak will implore you to ignore. Maybe you should forgive the guy."

"I _have_ forgiven the guy."

"No, you're pissed at him still but you're ignoring your anger, putting it on the back burner. But the problem is that you can't because you're stubborn and you can't get over him."

"I hate you," I scowl. "Stop shrinking me. I hate it."

She smiles kindly. "I know. Listen, I'm not saying to start a romantic relationship with him, but why not let the Lisa thing go? It has to be making this civil-for-the-sake-of-the-kids thing pretty hard."

It's been 2 weeks since Ranger told me about his 'friends' coming into town and the news has taken a noticeable toll on our friendship. I can't help but be bitter about it. I know Emily is right and I have no claim on the guy but let's face it: Ranger told me he loved me, got me pregnant then disappeared for almost 2 years with this woman and I heard him telling her I was nothing to him. And now she's back?! It's a bit tough to just 'let things go'. One thing is for sure – I can't ever be with the guy again no matter what he says. I don't trust him in that sense and no actions from him have proven me wrong so far.

I think he understands that but it's not like I can ever tell what he's thinking with his damn stoic faces. Not that I care...

What I would give for the ability to drown my anger in tequila right now.

"Anyway," Emily continues, "I thought you were going to tell me how things at the church went."

That earns another scowl from me, even though I'm grateful for the subject change. It seems getting a kid baptized in a Catholic church isn't as easy as walking in, pouring a bit of water over his head and walking out. There are about a hundred steps to take. "Well, first, they wanted to make sure I was Catholic, and they want records of my own baptism and my confirmation and they're asking details of my divorce. _Then_ they asked about the father's religious history. I haven't gotten around to asking Ranger about that yet."

"Well, at least it will give you something to say to the guy."

"I talk to him on a regular basis."

"Like you talked to him before his confessed his undying love for you? You turn into a monosyllabic drone when you talk to him now. It's like your phone company is charging you by the word."

"Not to sound redundant, but I hate you."

Emily smiles again. "You'll thank me later."

"Don't be too sure about that. Besides, he's done the same thing to me for years now."

"Oh, so that makes it okay?" she says. "I'd say that you should call him now and put this whole awkward episode behind you but I'm predicting that you're about five seconds away from finding an excuse not to do that."

"It's late."

"Damn. That was only two seconds."

"Hate. You."

* * *

"No grandson of mine is going to wear black leather to his baptism!" My mother says with a stomp of her foot.

"So you'd have him wear a white dress? That's so boring! These are boys, they shouldn't wear dresses!" Grandma Mazur responds in a fury.

I don't think I can deal with it anymore. We're at the mall in a fancy baby store that has everything you could possibly want for your baby: toys, themed room sets, outfits galore and even what I can only imagine are Halloween costumes. I've given up on trying to referee between my mother and my grandmother as they pick out things for the twin's baptism. There are way too many choices in this store and my headache has been building since we got here an hour ago. The twins are asleep in their double stroller and I'm eyeing them with envy. I'd give anything to sleep through this torture.

"Mother, it's a traditional baptism ceremony that will be held in a church, not a biker bar." She adds two more white christening gowns onto the piles of nearly identical ones she is already carrying.

Grandma Mazur has slightly different taste. "Some traditions are meant to be changed. I don't think God will mind if we dress them like boys."

"Boys have worn gowns for baptism since the idea was created."

"They didn't _have_ pants when the idea was created. Have you ever seen Jesus in trousers? No. Because they didn't have them back then. I'll bet if he was around today he'd put on a good pair of slacks."

My mom ignores her and lays out all her options across a stand, analyzing them all. "Come here, Stephanie. Which do you think suits them?"

I glance up at them both. "Oh, you want my input now?" I ask with an edge to my voice.

"Personally, I think the lace is nice," she says, oblivious to my annoyance.

Grandma Mazur rolls her eyes. "Sure, that works. And for a gift, I'll get them their first lipstick. We'll have little cross-dressers. Fun!"

I bite back a laugh in spite of myself. "I'm going to look around. You two keep up your shenanigans if you must." I leave the stroller in their capable hands and head out to the food court to get some coffee and a donut and walk back to the store leisurely while I fish out my cell phone.

"Hello?" Lula answers.

"Hey you. What are you up to?"

She sighs, "Trying to get Mooner into my car, but he can't be bothered to leave his playstation game."

"Did you bribe him with chips?"

"Mm-hm. He's got Fritos so he don't really care about my chips. You think I should use some chocolate?"

"Can't hurt."

"Hold on," she says to me before having a muffled conversation with someone on else. "Chocolate worked, but not until he finishes this round."

"Grab yourself a Sprite from the fridge and relax. That's what I used to do."

"Anyhow, what are you up to?"

"Oh, I'm at the mall."

"Fun!"

I shake my head, "You didn't let me finish. I'm here with my mother and grandmother."

"Oh," She says in a much less enthusiastic tone. "What are you looking for?"

"Christening outfits for the twins. It's all going _very_ well," I say sarcastically.

"Well, it sounds like you need to party."

I roll my eyes again, "Is that your answer for every problem? No, I don't."

"Oh. Well then it must be me that needs to party. We really need to go out soon but first I need to get some cash in my pockets. Want to help me bring in my last skip?"

"I don't know," I say, "I'm kind of tired and I _really_ don't feel like being shot at or blowing up my car. Who do you have to bring in?"

"Bob Frodoman. Know him?"

"Name sounds familiar but no."

"I'll buy you dinner and drinks when we finally go out if you help me. I have to drop my car off at the mechanic's after I drop Mooner off."

Now, I feel really bad saying no because Lula could use the help but… "Not happening – especially not in my car. Not only do I have two babies, but I really like my car so I don't want it to explode."

Lula sighs, "Nothing will happen to your car. But, fine. I'll try to get him on my own. If I can't, I'll be asking for your help again. Man, I could really use a party."

I hear Mooner shout in the background, "Party? I could go to a party?"

"You ain't goin' nowhere if I don't get you in to reschedule. Get your ass in my car and we'll talk."

I can't help a grin. "Is he moving?"

"You bet your ass he is. I'll call you later to let you know if I'll need your help. Try to get a sitter."

"I'll try but I'm not promising anything."

When I get back to the store, my mother and my grandmother are surprisingly calm. "So? Did you pick one?"

My grandmother is standing in front of a line of identical white cloth. "How do you feel about a christening _suit_?!"

And here we go again…

* * *

"Hello?" I say as I pick up my phone.

Ranger's voice sounds annoyed on the other line. "You called?"

"Yeah," I say, thrown off by his mood. "We need to go over the baptism stuff when you get a chance. They gave me a bunch of paperwork for you to fill out and then we both have to go to the church and meet with the priest."

"When?"

"I don't know, I haven't made the appointment yet but most likely sometime in the next month," I tell him. "I can have my mom drop off the paperwork tomorrow since she'll be babysitting and in your next of the woods."

"You don't come into Trenton anymore?"

I frown. "I'm _so_ not going to RangeMan any time soon."

"Fine," he says after a while. "Tell her to leave it at the front desk." He doesn't give me a chance to respond before hanging up.

"What the hell?" I say to no one in particular. How did I become the bad guy here?

* * *

**More coming up :)**


End file.
